Just a Boy

I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. A petite woman in her mid-30s answered. When she saw my uniform, she began to shake, and had to grip the door frame to keep from collapsing.

"You found his body," she whispered. It was a statement, rather than a question, but I could see a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

"Yes, ma'am. We've found your son." I struggled to find my next words. "Jacob..is alive."

"Alive?!" she sobbed in relief.

“Yes, alive. But he..”

“Please, officer," she interrupted. "Will you take me to my son?”

"Ma'am, your son killed the two officers who found him, and another even after he was sedated. Jacob is.. different, now."

A burst of static from my radio cut me off, followed by screams and pleading of the dispatch officers. Then a sound like a ripe watermelon being dropped from a height. The screams cut off instantly.

As I ran for my car, surely headed to my own death, the mother called out to me. “Don't you hurt him!” she wailed. “Jacob’s just a boy! He’s just a four year old boy!”