Okay, I have a confession to make.
Serenity, since that night, I have spoken to someone. Once.
You.
It was late, the first night you arrived here, and I noticed you crying on a park bench, right beside the playgrounds. Everything was quiet, the sun having set hours ago, and humid weather kept my clothes sticking to my skin.
Walking up to you, I asked three words, “Are you okay?”
But you didn’t answer.
And so I shut up.
