There was a boy in our class who never spoke
He had no friends, he was always alone
At times, from my seat, I looked back
Only to see him looking away, so detached
Outside of class, I never saw him
And not once have I ever spoken to him
We crossed paths only once a day
Then he would disappear while I went my own way
But on a day like any other, I was on my way home
It was a tragic day; I should have known
Speeding headlights were rushing towards me
I was nearing death, but someone saved me
He pushed me away and was hit instead
The impact was great; the ground turned red
I ran to my savior, bleeding on the pavement
What was he thinking trying to be my angel?
As I turned his head, I was surprised
I knew his face, I knew those eyes
Pain was in me; I had to ask
Why did he save me, that boy from class?
In my arms he was going to die
Before our "hello," it was already "goodbye"
YOU ARE READING
That Boy from Class
Short StoryWould you cry for a stranger who died in your place?