Tragedy blooms in the dark

Ok

Jonathan POV

Every Wednesday, the school tries to run an anti bullying lesson in a certain class.
While it's normally slightly entertaining, today proved to be different.
"I realize it's a drag to just watch the schools video and discuss it. So we're gonna watch this video I thought related to the lesson."
The class seemed to audibly roll their eyes at the teachers attempt of getting the most of the lesson.

I casually took out my pen and notebook as the teacher dimmed the lights to watch the video.
"When I was a kid, I used to think pork chops and karate chops were the same thing."
My back broke into a cold sweat as memories flooded my mind, stomach tying itself into knots
"I thought they were both pork chops. And because my grandmother thought it was cute, and they were my favorite. She let me keep doing it."
Memories of intense loneliness.
"Not really a big deal."

Memories of the darkest point in my depression.
Memories of pushing people away, and them being more than glad about it.
"I'm not the only kid who grew up this way. Surrounded by people who used to say that rhyme about sticks and stones."
That time that my family decided to push me last in the priority list.
"As if broken bones hurt more than the names we were called, and we got called them all."
My eyes began to burn and blur as tears flooded my eyes.
"So we grew up believing no one would ever fall in love with us."

I shakily took in a breath, my Adam's apple bobbing as I swallowed the thick lump in my throat.
"That'd we be lonely forever."
Don't cry.
"That'd we never meet someone to make us feel like the sun was something they built for us in their tool shed."
I turned my hands into fist as I looked down, silently mouthing the rest of the poem, not bothering to look up.
"So broken heart strings bled the blue as we tried to empty ourselves so we would feel nothing."
I hesitantly looked up, still mouthing the next verse.
Then I saw her.

"Don't tell me that hurts less than a broken bone."
Her eyes glistened with unspilled tears as she mouthed along as well.
"That an ingrown life is something surgeons can cut away, that there's no way for it to meta size."
She was a picture of beauty for me.
"It does."
Her hair dark in chocolate curls, surrounding her face and covering her like a veil.
"She was eight years old. Our first day of grade three when she got called ugly."
In a moment of inspiration, I quickly started sketching her.

Staring unabashedly, I drew the sketch using a pen.
"To this day, despite a loving husband she doesn't think she's beautiful because of a birthmark that takes up a little less than half her face."
I carefully outlined the details.
First her soft yet noble face frame, then the significantly dark beauty marks that speckled her face, and lastly the folds and wrinkles of her oversized black sweater.
"Girls who's definition of beauty begins with the word-"
"Alright class, the bells going to ring in less than a minute so start packing up."
With that said, the bell rung a shrilling tone, signaling the other students to run out the door as if a bomb was set off.

She slowly stood with her eyes cast downward, slowly shuffling down the hallway.
I shoved my books into my bag, and ran to catch up with her.
"Uh. Hey."
I said nervously. She slowly looked up, shock and confusion scribbled in her expression.
"Uhh. Hey. Can I help you?"
She asked softly, tucking her overgrown bangs behind her ear.
"Yeah. I just wanted to give you this."
With an unsteady hand I offered her the drawing. She looked at it confusedly before, with a hesitant hand,taking it.
I gave a soft reassuring smile to answer her raised eyebrows.
"Ok. Thanks. What is it?"
She asked as she slowly unfolded the paper. Then when she finally saw what it was, hey eyes lit up with an expression I couldn't describe.
"It's a drawing. More sketch than drawing actually but yeah."
I murmured embarrassedly.

"Whoa. Thank you." She said softly with a smile that complimented her tone. My stomach tied itself into knots pleasantly. I hopped on one foot, nervously tugging at my backpacks strap.
"Well, I have to go now. Bye?"
"Yeah. Me too. Thanks for the drawing."
I smiled proudly at the compliment.
"Thanks! Ok, uhh. Bye."
She breathed out a soft laugh before waving a goodbye.

I quickly ran down the hallway, nearly tripling down stairs as I thought to myself. "Whoa. I wonder when I'll see her again."