The Bush The Briar Wanted To Be

A Boy On Fire

The once was a Boy. A Young boy. A Soft boy. A boy on Fire. He wasn't always on fire. He used to be just a boy. But the he went out into the World and soft as he was, there were others who were not, and he dealt with it best he could.

He didn't catch fire Immediately after entering the world. He beared so much for so long but then the Friction between him and those who taunted and teased him grew and lit a Spark.

The spark caught to flame and the flame consumed the fuel provided by years of Torment. The flame Engulfed him but did him no harm. Not physically.

The flame consumed and grew and it grew hot and bright and unbearable. The people around him shied away from its heat and the Boy. The boy was on Fire. The boy was Alone.

Time in isolation dimmed his flame. It made him mellow, timid, eager to Please. It made him seem warmer and softer than ever before in comparison. People grew closer and the boy was Happy. For a time.

As the boy became approachable, those alike to who had wronged him before came close with the others. They mixed into the crowd of happy faces and with those smiles brought back the boy's suffering. Slowly, gradually, they picked on him more. Masquerading as friends, but having Awful intentions.

The boy remained happy. He had friends. He was not Alone. But the slights of certain "friends" wore away his smile. He grew Angry. The line between True friend and not blurred to his eyes and they were all the Same. He resisted this. He kept his Anger within him. But his fire burned Hot. It warmed his core and spilt from his fingertips burning Anyone who tried to hold his hand.

This drove people away once again. It took Time. There were those resilient friends. The Good friends. But they, too, grew Tired and sought Better company. They Left the boy. The boy was alone Again.