"I got you a bandaid."
"Why?"
"Someone told me you got hurt."
"...I'm not hurt?"
"Yes, you are. They said you were crying because someone else hurt you."
"Oh. I'm fine, I promise."
"Then why are you crying?"
"Well...the person who hurt me...hurt me in my heart."
The small boy put the bandaid on the left side of her chest, where he assumed the heart to be and asked, "better now?"
But she couldn't answer because of the tears.
a/n: not my usual style but this story is just so beautiful.
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My Lies
PoesíaThe average person tells four lies a day, one-thousand, four-hundred and sixty a year, and eighty-seven-thousand and six-hundred by the age of sixty. And the most common lie is: "I'm fine." Cᴏᴘʏʀɪɢʜᴛ © 2013/2014 - InkButterfly
