I knew a boy who sat at the back of the room he never talked or raised his hand but he wrote.
He wrote on his notebook he wrote on the desk and he wrote on his hands.
He had brown hair and blue eyes and when he smiled I swear it could light up a room.
He hardly ever wore short sleeves even on hot days you would catch him wearing long sleeves and jeans.
But one day while sitting next to him I noticed that he had thin red lines running across his wrist.
I realized what they were, I had them too. But I asked him anyway and he stopped writing and looking at me with a smile on his face he responded with "Oh, my cat scratched me."
But you could see in his face that he was lying and I went home and cried that day because I thought how could someone so beautiful be in so much pain.
And then the next month on the seventh of August he didn't come to school and on the eight everyone was talking about him and his sister had found him
Hanging from the ceiling with a slash on each wrist and on his bed was a letter which mentioned me,
the girl with a beautiful smile who asked about his wrist.
____________________________________
Hey guys! Hope you enjoyed this short story.... It's so sad. I know.
-_-
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Thanks for reading!!!!
