Boys Nobody Ever Writes Stories About

Hudson

Every year, in every class, he would hand the teacher a note and she would scan over it briefly and then look up at him again. He would be awaiting her response and every year with all the different professors, it would be the same. They would would be speechless and after moments of silence, they would give him a pitiful look. Shrugging his shoulders, he would politely nod and then walk off to the back of the class and sit furthest away from everyone. He'll take out his worn out, leather notebook and write and write when the teacher wasn't looking. Just writing and writing. Scribbling and crossing out words so viciously, but once anyone tried to sneak a peak, he would slam it so hard, silence would fall.

The thing about him was, he never hushed a word; idiots would crumple up the paper and throw it at him and he would never flinch. I remember one day, I sat by him and as there were crumpled papers underneath so I would gather up all of them every day. and in every one I would write attributes that I liked about him that I picked up over the years with his silenced self. I remember the first day I did that and he would unfold them so carefully, it looked as if he was picking flower petals with his slender fingers. He looked over it and a grin was plastered against his pale face. This was the first time I've ever saw him smile. Months and months past and it was finally graduation day. I sat on a plain and uncomfortable chair awaiting the beginning of the introduction. one... two... three... the lights began to dim and applause began to arise. Gasps were heard and I looked up. There he was, the silent warrior. Our valedictorian that never whispered a word. He cleared his throat and when I first heard him, i couldn't do anything but smile. He sounded like childhood dreams and midnight whistles. "the day i came into school with bruises all over my back put there by people who don't believe in me, an angel fell from the heavens and I'm here, alive, because of her"

{ i'm holding crumpled notes in one day and in the other, there's a ring }