Holding On To Nothing

Promise I

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"Ka-the-rine." He said my name like a child would. Which he was. His voice so different to what it is now.

"I guess." I replied. "But it has a difference spelling."

I was walking around my school in Doncaster, which was called Phoenix Elementary School, waiting for my brother to finish playing football, when I bumped into a boy with brown hair and pretty eyes. He was wearing the same uniform as my brother, so i guessed he was in the football team as well. He was sorta cute, but at that time, I just thought that he was very nice to talk to me.

"Well, what does it spell?" He asked, laughing at my wrong grammar.

"It spells as.." I stopped and wrote on my arm with my finger. "K, A, T, H, R, Y, N. Kathryn." I said, looking proud that I could spell my name at the age of five.

"Wow, you're really good at spelling, by the way."

"Thanks." I said, smiling, happy that he noticed. "Yours good with yours grammar. Mines all fuzzy."

He laughed. "Don't worry. me too. i was like you when i was in your age. Besides, I'm not good with spelling."

"Really?! what--" Then my brother came running towards us.

"Hey, guys!" He said, panting a little. He just finished playing football. The boy with pretty eyes said he was free, because his match ended a few games ago.

"So," my brother said, once he caught his breath. "I see that you've met my sister." He told the boy.

"Yes, I did, Keithy." The boy said, making me laugh, but I tried to hold it so it came out as a snort of some sort.

"KEITHY?! Where did that come from?!" I asked, chuckling. My brother looked angered by the teasing.

"It's none of your business!" He shouted at me. i tried to stop laughing, but i couldn't. he spat an 'stop it', but when it didn't work, he spat an 'i'm going to tell dad!', before running back to the football field.

I stood there stunned.

I didn't mean to hurt him. I didn't want him to be angry at me. Why did he shout? What did I do wrong?

Lots of questions were in my mind and I was just so confused. And as you all know, even if it's just a little thing that affected a child, it will make them cry.

So, yes, I cried.

Tears were streaming down my face as I stood there staring at the figure of my brother at the far end of the football field. Me, standing alone with a stranger that refers to my brother as Keithy.

Beside me the boy sighed. He turned to me and took my face.

"Hey," he said in a soft voice. He was looking at me in the eyes, but it was hard to look back since my eyes were blurry from the tears that were pouring out. "Don't cry."

I frowned. "I didn't mean to hurt him! Why is he angry?"

"Well, I don't know." He said, not making anything better for me. "The only thing we can do is to go to him and tell him we're sorry." He said, smiling a encouraging smile.

I tried for a smile, myself, wanting it to be as great as his. Of course, that was a fail.

He wiped the tears off my face and my eye sight was clearer.

"There." He said. "Do you want to go to him, now, Kathryn?"

I nodded. So there we started to walk to the football field.