Truths Only

The sky was a heavy blanket of grey, the kind that seemed to press down on everything below. It wasn’t cold, but the air was thick with the smell of rain, and you could tell the weather was about to change. The three of us—me, Timi, and Adam—were making our way home from school. The streets were quieter than usual, with just a few cars passing by and the occasional chatter from people lingering at their gates.

Timi and Adam were talking as we walked, their voices blending with the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze. They’d been friends forever, and their conversations had a rhythm to them, like they understood each other without needing to explain too much. I was there too, but I wasn’t really part of the conversation. I never really was. I preferred to listen, or rather, I preferred to let their words wash over me while I drifted off into my own thoughts.

It was better that way. I could lose myself in my head, and for a little while, I didn’t have to think about what was waiting for me at home.

“Tony,” Timi said, his voice pulling me out of the fog I’d slipped into. “Does your aunt know about the Truth or Dare game?”

The question caught me off guard, and for a second, I didn’t know what he was talking about. My aunt? Why was he asking about her? Just hearing her mentioned made my stomach twist, and I felt a cold shiver run down my spine. I didn’t want to think about her. I didn’t want to talk about her.

“Uh... I guess so,” I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper. I couldn’t bring myself to say more. I just wanted the conversation to move on, to go back to being a background noise I could ignore.

“Yeah, he said she knows,” Adam chimed in, as if confirming something that had been said before. I must’ve zoned out when they’d talked about it earlier. It happened a lot—my mind had a way of drifting off on its own, away from everything I didn’t want to deal with.

Timi glanced at me, his eyes narrowing slightly, like he was trying to figure something out. “You sure you were listening, Tony?”

I wasn’t. But I wasn’t about to admit that. “Yeah, I was listening,” I said quickly, trying to keep my voice steady.

We kept walking, the sound of our footsteps mixing with the soft hum of the world around us. The houses looked the same as always—faded paint, rusted gates, overgrown hedges—but today, everything felt different. Maybe it was just the weather. Maybe it was just me.

Our usual spot by the pond wasn’t far, and we made our way there like we always did. It was tucked away behind a cluster of old trees, hidden from the main road. The ducks were already there, floating lazily on the water, their feathers ruffled slightly by the breeze. I liked it here. It was quiet, away from everything else, away from home. For a little while, I could forget.

Timi was the first to break the silence, making those crow noises he liked so much. He’d been practising different bird calls for weeks, and now he had a whole arsenal. Last week it was hawks, today it was crows. I didn’t get why he liked doing it so much, but it kept him busy, and that was fine by me.

Adam had brought some bread, like he always did, and he started tearing it into pieces, tossing them into the water. The ducks swam over eagerly, snapping up the bits of bread as soon as they hit the surface. I remembered something my dad told me once about Donald Duck. He said Donald Duck didn’t like bread because it upset his tummy. I wondered if real ducks were the same, if Adam was feeding them something that wasn’t good for them. But the ducks didn’t seem to mind, and Adam was just a kid trying to be kind, so I didn’t say anything.

I sat down on the grass, the cool air brushing against my face, and let my mind drift again. It was nice here. A small escape from the things I didn’t want to think about. A reprieve from the shadows that followed me everywhere else.