The Dead Black Kid. I use this in the proper noun sense, since it was forever referenced thus during my tenure as an employee of cineplex odeon.

We were closing down, and theater 10 was the last to get out. I can't recall what movie was playing, but it was a pretty dead Thursday, and the theater was generally empty. A guest, a white guy, pounded on the box office glass and shouted "I think you'd better check theater 10" and left in a hurry.

I walked into theater 10, and the mood was made more eerie by the fact that the projectionist had failed to splice on the optical footer that controlled the theater's lights. The overhead lights were still off, and the projector was still full bright, illuminating the room with only the indirect white light of the screen itself.

A boy, between 5 and 8 perhaps, lay motionless in one of the chairs, near in the center of the theater. The movie playing was not a kids movie, making it odd for him to even be here. I called out to him, grew nervous, and shouted. No response. I shook him gently, and his limp hand fell from the arm of the chair onto his lap. I suddenly had an intense surge of adrenaline, in shock and disbelief.

I tried to check his pulse, or listen for him breathing, but my own pounding heart, the clicking of the still running projector, and my complete lack of even basic first aid was making my anxiety grow more intense by the minute. I left the theater in a rush and saw another employee talking to a black woman, early thirties.

My co-worker said something like "No, I think the theaters have already been checked, we would have found if someone were still here" and my heart sunk. Was I going to have to be present for a mother discovering her dead son?

"Um, are you looking for a little boy?" I asked. She said yes and began to stride toward me, looking relieved.

"Well, I think he's in there but I'm not sure if maybe he needs medical help or something" I managed to stammer, and she only looked at me strangely.

"Is he sleeping?" she asked.

"I think so?"

So she goes in, and shouts "Tyson!" The boy jumps up and runs to his mom. She looks at me, sees my confusion and concern, and says "Was he pretending to be asleep? Don't take this the wrong way, but he does that around white strangers. I think its a phase."

Weird day, that was.