Memories of You

Chapter 1 - Shy And A Victim

*recounting the past*

Walking up to this little boy covered in mud, I giggled to myself. I felt bad for the kid, but it was still a funny sight. 

"What are you laughing at?" He pouted and crossed his arms at me.

"You're covered in mud..." I scrunched my nose and covered my mouth trying to contain my giggles. Like any other five year old, I pointed out the obvious. 

"Go away." He turned his back to me and stuck out his tongue in the process. I walked away not really caring that this kid was still covered in mud, and probably needed help. 

After school, I saw an open seat next to him on the bus as I walked by him. I hopped up and sat next to him. I had a cheesy grin plastered on my face and I just stared at him, swinging my legs back and forth, waiting for his attention to be on me and not out the window. After a few minutes of staring at him, I stuck a finger out and poked him. 

"What's your name? I'm Evelyn. But my mommy calls me Evie sometimes." I crooked my head to the side and waited for him to respond.

"James..." He answered quietly looking downward at his fingers as he played with them. 

"Why you so shy?" I scrunched up one side of my nose and tilted my eyebrow in confusion. I had never met someone so shy before. 

"I just, am." He sat there, still staring at his hands. We sat in silence the rest of the ride. When we arrived at my house, I hopped down dragging my bag behind me. 

"Bye, James!" I waved as I headed out the doors towards my house. He looked up at me and gave me a fake half smile, and then proceeded to stare at his hands. 

As I entered my house, I ran into the kitchen where my mum was cooking dinner. My brother was already sitting on a stool at the counter, telling my mum about his day at school. I threw my bag on the ground and hopped up on the stool next to him. 

"Mum! I met a new boy at school today!" I interupted my brothers story with my new news. He frowned at me and pushed me off the stool. "Heyyyy! That hurt!" I whined as I got back up on the stool. He was only a few years older than me, but somehow he could get away with murder and not even get in trouble with my mum. 

"So this new boy, what's his name?" My brother asked me quite snotty.

"James." I was determined to let him know I wasn't making this one up. I had a history of making up imaginary friends, so needles to say they didn't really believe me. 

"Liar." Dawson, my brother, crossed his arms and gave me the i-dont-believe-you-brat look. I was furious. I wasn't making it up this time. He really was real. 

"Fine. Don't believe me." I hopped off the stool and grabbed my book bag from where I had thrown it earlier. I ran up to my room, and believe it or not, I sat and did my little first grade homework. Now don't get me wrong, that stuff was hard. Especially the parts where you had to draw a picture. I hated that part about it. Note my sarcasm. 

*next day* 

I entered the bus early in the morning, searching for my new friend. I got to the back of the bus and noticed him sitting by himself again, and staring out the window. I hopped up like I had the last time and he turned to face forward, but still didn't make eye contact with me. 

"Hi.." He started the conversation rather quietly, and I almost couldn't hear him. 

"Well Hi!!!" I was a rather loud and friendly child, so to be honest, I probably scared the poor kid to death with my friendliness. He looked up at me with wide eyes and just sat there awkwardly, not knowing what to say next. He swallowed and then stared at his hands like he had the day before.

"Would you stop that? People are going to think you're weird." I wasn't trying to be rude, but I was always told to tell people the truth, no matter how much it might hurt them. 

"I just, do." He put his hands under him and stared at his feet, swinging them back and forth. This kid is really weird. I said to myself as i opened my eyes wide and turned my head to observe my surroundings. We arrived at school and we walked to our classroom together, still not having said a word since the bus ride. Some of the third grade boys decided to "accidentally" run into him as they ran past us. As he tumbled to the ground, the eldest of them laughed, still running . 

"Hey!" I yelled at them, but they didn't stop. I helped my friend back up and he walked rather quickly past me to the bathroom. I shrugged my shoulders, proceeding to the class room. After about fifteen minutes, he still hadn't shown. My teacher marked him as tardy, and then was asked to go to the office. When she came back, she had a bloody James in front of her. 

"If any of you were part of this, I will find out. This is unacceptable." She spoke outloud pointing to James' puffy lip and bruised cheek bone. How did that happen? I remember no blood when I helped him up. I thought to myself as I stared at the beat up boy I called my friend. The class sat silent, just staring at him. Tears welled up in his eyes and he whiped them away, still staring at the ground. 

"You may go take your seat now Niall..." My teacher bent down and said to him gently. He proceeded to his seat, gripping his bag in his arms tightly to his chest, still staring at the ground. His seat was next to me, so I decided I was going to ask what happened to his face. 

"What happened to you?" I whispered, or so I thought. 

"Evelyn, be quiet." My teacher turned around from the lesson she was writing on the board. I sunk in my seat and was quiet the rest of class, that is until lunch came around. 

I grabbed my lunch from my cubby hole and searched for James, or Niall. I was still confused as to why my teacher called him Niall. That wasn't his name. I found him and took a seat across from him. 

"So, what happened?" I looked at him taking a bite from my sandwhich and squirming on the bench trying to get comfortable. 

"They found me in the bathroom. I was cry-" He paused and continued to eat, rather embarrasesed about the fact that he was crying in the bathroom. 

"It's okay. I cry all the time." At that age, I didn't really understand why it was so bad for a boy to cry. I mean, If you're hurt, you cry. That was that. 

"Not me. My mum always tells me to be strong." He said to me, actually making eye contact with me as he did. I didn't take much notice to his mood change, because well, I was five. You couldn't expect me to be that observant. The rest of the day, he was rather sweet. He was still shy, but not as much as he had been earlier. I liked this boy. I decided he was my new best friend. 

Authors note: Okay my readers. I know this chapter might be confusing, but I promise it will get more interesting. I will try to get help from one of my friends to tell me if its too confusing or not. Please Vote, Comment, and Fan! Please! The more the votes, the faster I post chapters! xxx

-Me xx