John brushed past the guy in the barracks, he needed inside a room, any room. And his own barracks was all the nicer because it meant that no one would ask questions about why he was here.He heard the door close as the guy who was in here before him stormed out. "Great, just great. A guy tries to be friendly and you blow him off and back him mad, as if anything else would look more suspicious." Luckily, he thought, the kid is a totally green doesn't know his head from his ass in this place.
'But if that had been a vetern, you would have been in trouble, why did you do that anyway?' another voice in his head asked. I just didn't know what to do, he thought.
'No, not brushing the kid off. That other thing.' the voice answered back. I don't know, was all he could think and he put his head between his legs and sobbed.
Most people would think it strange that a teenage boy should hear voices in his head, let alone answer them, but to John Little it was his way of disconnecting himself from the events that had just happened. For a gypsy, to commit an act of violence was unthinkable and once he came to the realization of what he did, he ran back to the barracks and tryed to figure out why he had done this.
And so it came to pass that John Little, who was nicknamed Little John after the Robin Hood character for both his size and his name, sat on his bunk quietly sobbing because he lost his control like no gypsy should do. Especially a gypsy prince.
