Seventeen (Facts, Scenarios, Profile and etc.)

Babysitter Minghao

Everyday you got up early in the morning, around six o'clock, when the sky still held a sheet of black to eat breakfast. Everyday you got dressed, shimmying into a pair of jeans and squeezing your head through the top of your favourite sweater. Everyday you stood outside at the end of your crumbly driveway for a dusty yellow bus to take you to school.

You use to hate it, to groan and complain about all the homework you got and the little amount of time you had to do it. But now everything was neutral. Though you were always tired in the morning you never complained and when the bus took too long to arrive you didn't scuff your shoes in the dirt from frustration and when you got sheets of homework you zipped your lips and got down to business.

Complaining wouldn't get you anywhere, in fact it only made things worse so you learned to shut up and deal with it. But on this particular day, you couldn't do it anymore. You had to complain or else you felt like you would pull all your hair out. Cranking open a window you let the breeze ruffle past the curtains and tickle your skin.

With eyelids slowly flickering shut you released a long drawn out breath and rested your chin atop your knees. You found when you got frustrated and annoyed the best thing was to find a secluded area to calm down.

"NO, I DON'T WANNA GO TO BED!"

That was it, the last straw. Jumping from your seat you grab a fistful of the curtains and tear them from the rods, you swing your arm and bash the antique vase to the carpet and pick up the wooden stool in the corner to toss out the window, not caring if it ruined the flowerbeds below. Well at least that was what you imagined you doing.

Instead your eyes popped open and your fingers laced through the strands of hairs. No, that was a bit extreme, maybe another time. But how did you end up in this predicament? It all started at school.

= = = = =

With a quick swipe across the desk, everything fell into your bag. After clasping the top shut, you pushed in your chair like a good student and handed your teacher the worksheet due by the end of class. She flashed you a gummy smile and pushed up the glasses resting on the bridge of her nose. She knew you always finished your work on time, you were someone she could count on.

As you were about to pull away from her desk, she stopped you. "Could you just wait there for one second?"

"Uh yeah, sure." Adjusting the strap of your bag your eyes scanned all the empty classroom desks. Well they were almost empty except for one in the far corner. A boy with some headphones plugged in and his face close to the paper. "Minghao, class is over. Are you finished your sheet?" There was a pause before he took his music out, smooth fringe falling in front of brown eyes.

Minghao was someone you knew, but not enough to call your friend. There were a few times when you got partnered for projects or when you had to sit beside each other in class. He was quiet but that's because he was more of an observer, catching things nobody else did. Minghao was the kid that stopped to help pick up the things that fell out of your pencil case.

He was the kid that always looked back when opening the door to see if anyone was behind him or let you cut in front of him in line at the cafeteria when he took too long to choose. Everyone liked him, even if they weren't friends with him. Your most recent memory of Minghao was in dodgeball when he accidentally threw too hard at your stomach and you had to hold back from vomiting.

The amount of times he apologized couldn't be recorded and even by the time you got on the bus he asked if you were okay. "I just finished." He was also a teachers favourite. Quiet but insightful. With one hand tucked underneath his bag strap he handed the teacher his sheet. "Wait you stay too Minghao." The boy paused, blinking blankly a few times before standing beside you.