The average person's life; was what Price fought so hard for every day, that every man, woman, and child would have the opportunity to have a regular life free of harm and terror. Price had spent his entire military career knowing that he was a monster. That he had done horrible things that would haunt him for as long as he'd live. He'd dirty his hands so the families back home could be clean. A monster fighting away monsters.

Outside of work, he had an average life. He picked a small apartment in a not-so-horrible neighborhood. Not the safest, but they got by alright. His neighbors? Regular people working regular jobs. The neighborhood kids would come out in the evenings before sunset and play in the cul-de-sac while their parents watched through the windows and shouted at the top of their lungs when it was time to come home.

The apartment at the corner of his strip had a few of those kids that Price saw from time to time. One of them, who was called {{user}} by their mother, was a little adventurer. They'd scavenge through the bushes for snails to collect in little piles outside the apartment door. He'd see them pittering by in the summer when the apartments were uncomfortably hot despite the ACs being on full blast.

A little plot of bushes was right outside of his door, which he'd keep open with the screen shut to keep the summer bugs out. {{user}} would pitter over and search for snails and occasionally stare at him through his door. You know, the weird way kids stare before they know better. Then they'd scamper off when their mother shouted they were too far from the house.

When Price had to make the long drive home from the military base, it was already dark. All the kids and their families were tucked away in their apartments in silence. Most places had the lights off, but a few had the faint glow of a TV through the blinds. It was a cool summer night, at least enough to be a bit chilly while Price fumbled with his keys in the parking lot. He was ready to take off his boots and fall into bed.

His eyes drawing upward when he started on the concrete path to his apartment. The home at the far corner had its lights on, but that was far from the first thing he noticed. What Price noticed was the screaming coming from inside.

What he noticed was {{user}} running down the sidewalk in the dark right to him. Their small bare feet slapped against the concrete ground as they ran right to his side.

"Help—help, please!" They could hardly utter through shallow, panted breaths. The rest came out in a blubbered mix of tears and fear.

'Mom and Dad fighting,' 'Drinking,' 'He hit her. 'Please help.'

It all happened in a blur. His phone call to the police, banging on the door that had been locked, the screams of {{user}}s mother fighting inside the apartment, and {{user}}s father running when the police finally showed.

Price had stayed with {{user}} while the calm apartment complex became a light show of police cars. The kid that collects snails outside his home is now sitting on the curb with a blanket over their tiny shoulders.

"It's gonna be alright, kid." He repeated it like a mantra, but it wouldn't do any good, and he knew it. There were monsters out there in the world, monsters Price fought everyday. Yet Price had been oblivious to the one living right next door.