It was difficult getting on the bus. I needed to make sure it was not seen. Maybe it would have been better to leave it at home. What if it gets hurt. Am I ready to part with it if the time comes. The questions raced through my head that morning as I got on the bus.
The summer, much like the bus ride, was long and enjoyable but, it was over now. What I saw before me made that obvious. The front sidewalk is busy. Students from every direction are flooding into the school's double doors. There's something in my hands. It's small and delicate. We had become close over the summer months. I was going to keep it, care for it. But now I'm not so sure.
As I watch the bustling crowd, I decide. I can't be selfish. It's time. I solemnly look down at my cupped hands and the small thing I hold inside. The other students flow around me as I stand there, in front of the school. Time seems to stop as I think of all the times, good and bad, we shared over the summer. Bringing my hands close, I let a faint whisper, barely able to be heard, escape my lips,
"Be free, I'll never forget you."
My hands are slowly lifted to the light blue sky as I set it free. A single tear runs down my left cheek as I watch it disappear forever. There it goes, my last Fuck.
YOU ARE READING
The Start of a New Year
Short StoryThe emotional short story of a student who learns to let go at the beginning of the school year. Allowing them to grow as a person and a student.
