Speechless | Rayemma

24 | a "boy"

In the evening, a boy walked across the school's grounds, wearing a mustard raincoat and covering his head with the hood.

He walked towards the vigilant assigned with the job of checking who goes in and who goes out, however, the man appeared to be quite indolent so instead of asking who the boy was and doing his job properly, he just said; "Have a nice evening, son" and the hooded teen nodded his head as a response.

He crossed the road and opened his purple umbrella once he had reached the other side of it since it was starting to rain as the weather forecast had predicted. It hadn't rained in months.

The boy got inside a bus, handed the driver, an old man with small, funny glasses, his ticket and sat on the third row, on a seat by the window. He placed his bag on the seat next to him to avoid unwanted company.

He slept throughout the entire ride, the driver had to shake him awake. When he was back on his feet, he continued his journey. He stopped at a restaurant in a small village, after all, he was starting to get hungry.

After eating the Tempeh the restaurant offered, the boy in the raincoat started running to the city, apparently he was excited to reach his destination.

Once he reached the noisy city, he took note of how the bandage wrapped around his right leg had started to get muddy because of the rain, nevertheless, he didn't care much, it could be fixed later.

The teen spotted a neighborhood he was familiar with, one with little houses that looked as though they were taken out of one of those postcards people use to brag the place they are travelling to, well, every house looked like that except for one.

It was old, the walls' painting was peeling off, leaving some surfaces uncovered, therefore you could see the vermillion bricks that the house was constructed with; the plants looked fairly better than months ago, they were no longer withering; the floor was full of chalkboard drawings, all of them made by kids. The boy smiled, feeling how the wind played with his hair.

He was back home.

The young one approached the door and knocked on it three times, a habit of his. He waited, standing on the welcome mat placed on the ground and heard someone's footsteps getting closer and closer to where he was.

A dark-haired woman, who looked feeble yet sweet, opened the door and inspected the boy from head to toe, only to smile afterwards. She grabbed his hand and directed him inside the house, then, she said; "Welcome home! I've missed you". Isabella left for a moment to get a towel and dry clothes for the person standing on the house's floor, dripping with water.

She came down the staircase and looked at the boy, meticulously. "You can take off your raincoat, you know? With that hood and all... you look like a weird, street boy."

The "boy" noticed what she meant so he complied and smiled at her.

"Good, here you go" She handed the objects she had brought to the girl that looked like a "weird street boy".

"It's good to have you back, Emma."

The orange-haired girl, wrapped herself in the towel and signed "Yes, Miss Isabella", then proceeded to go upstairs to get changed.