There was an oak tree he found all those years ago. It was just a child at the time and so was he. It was a symbol of his childhood, and he remembered it's role in the time it took for him to grow into a man. The tree, you could say, grew along with him. It was like a companion to replace the loneliness provided by his sister.
He remembers how he ranted for all those years to this one person about his younger sister. The rants were always about how she "was a hidden mischief maker" and how she "was more of a stranger then a sister." It wasn't that he was looking for attention back then; he just wanted some company. A house like theirs was bound to leave its residents lonely between those marble floors and smooth, cream walls. With his parents never bothering to check up on him and his sister off doing her own thing, he was left with the uncomfortable silence and boredom.
The days of his childhood were ones of neglect and abandonment. There was only one person who was there for him, and even then, they had their own lives to attend to. Days at school felt fake. It was like they came from a cliche film where the protagonist goes through the frustrations and obstacles before they achieve a silly and irrational solution when the producers run out of time. Unlike the films, he could not see the obvious and planned goal. Perhaps he is not the protagonist.
"Perhaps it was meant to be like this," the boy thinks, time and time again. "Perhaps my life was supposed to feel like a movie all the time. Perhaps it was supposed to feel like this so I could get something better at the end."
One could only hope of a time better than now.
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YOU ARE READING
Child's Play
Roman pour Adolescents"Pity me," he stated, his eyes widening in such a way to appear convincing. "You don't need it," she points out, her umbrella barely keeping her dry. "Adore me," he boasts after a short period of time. "For no reason?" she scoffs, her green eyes rol...
