The Dark Times

Soccer

Kyle and I talked the rest of the day. We laughed, played, talked and I actually felt happy, for once. I couldn't remember the last time I felt this way. It felt amazing. I learnt he had just moved here all the way from Mexico. It took him months, for he had to ride a wagon attached to a horse the whole way. There were no working cars anymore. We shared stories about our old friends and family. He had a mother and father who were nutty and rude and a baby sister named Suzy who would cry and scream every time there was the tiniest sound. I only had my mom. Suddenly I felt lucky. Kyle has it worse. I felt bad for him. But he was a good kid and kept his spirits high. I also saw he had a deep scar on his face below his eye. I decided to not ask about it for now.Before I knew it school was over. For once I was actually glad school finished. "Do you play soccer?" I asked him as we walked out of the school. "I used to." He sadly answered. "There's a field a few minutes away, if you'd like to play." I replied, casually. "Oh cool! Let's play!" He yelled full of enthusiasm. His eyes were wide. He obviously missed soccer. I did too. We raced to the field. It was the same field I had been at when the darkness struck. People now call it, the fade. I saw a ratty old ball sitting near the far net. I raced over and grabbed it. We grabbed candles from the street and spread them out across the field. I set the ball down in the middle and we each went to our nets. "And... Go!" I yelled. We both ran towards the ball like our lives depended on it. We were both the same speed. We clashed as we reached the ball, Yet Kyle got the ball. He started dribbling it over to my net I ran back to my net and got in a defensive position. He shot the ball towards the net. It soared through the air. I ran after it and just before it enemy through the net I jumped up and caught it mid-air. "Wo! Sweet save!" He yelled. I was quite proud of myself to. We played for about another hour. The final score was 3-2 him. He joked about my loss the whole way home. Turns out he only lived a few houses away from me. I came home to dinner happily. I didn't even here my mother's criticisms. It was suddenly 11:00 a clock. Time for bed. I went upstairs and tucked myself in. Just as I was about to doze off I heard a soft knock on the door. When I opened it I saw Kyle holding a blanket and a pillow. His chin was bleeding. "What happened?" I asked, startled. "My father was being rough. Do you mind I spend the night? I have to get away from him. I nodded. "Of course you can stay! Come to my room." I said. He followed me upstairs until my room. He set up on my couch. I helped him treat his cut. It was deep, but wouldn't scar. I can't believe his dad would do that. At least my mom wasn't physical. I bandaged the wound. We chatted a bit and then both fell asleep. It was a dreamless night.