April 5th, 2016
i sat down in my seat, silent. the bus was in a much better condition than yesterday. i turned to observe my surroundings.
the same people were doing the same things as the day before, and the day before, and the day before.
except that boy.
and sitting next to him, was a woman.
the woman, aged approximately fifty, was talking rather rudely to the boy. again, he was crying. as his, presumably, mother pinched him, slapped him and quietly swore at him, his tears dropped into his lap.
as he looked in my direction, our eyes met.
i decided to do something.
i mouthed, are you okay?
he nodded and smiled sadly at me. i frowned.
i mouthed again, are you sure?
he smiled sadly again and nodded. he mouthed back, thank you. i smiled at him before i turned away.
the woman was now scolding him for not looking at her, and started harassing him again.
however, his tears did not fall.
instead, he was smiling.
so i smiled too.
YOU ARE READING
Why / k.j.h
Non-Fiction(lowercase intended) (short story) in which a girl sees a boy breaking and attempts to help, only to realise that she is breaking more herself. (WARNING: mentions of suicide, anxiety and depression are included in this book. if you are triggered by...
