The boy in the red shoes used to wear pretty pink dresses and had long hair. He never wore sneakers or played masculine sports. For a short while, he didn't come to school. He came back in 4th grade with bruises and shaggy short hair. He wore a dark hoodie and jeans. Most important were his bright red shoes. That was the only color he'd ever wear. For a few months, he looked sickly pale and frail.
Asking mother for allowance if I did chores and such, she gave me money. I'd buy everything for the boy. I bought him new, red shoes and boy clothes. Of course, I never gave it to him personally. Always leaving it at his desk or loosely tied to his backpack. I bought him food and left it at his desk every morning. I bought him his favorite drinks and bought him candy during Valentines, when no one would.
We went through 5th grade in a breeze and I continued my givings.
The boy started coming to school more often, looking more and more healthy. He'd still have bruises and cuts, though. I bought him pretty, blue band-aids for the cuts he had on his face. It made me happy when I saw the blue plasters on his face.
One day, I sneaked into the classroom to give the boy a pink milkshake. Someone sneaked up behind me and grabbed my hand. I screamed and turned around.
It was the boy.
He smiled and gave me a pretty, black bow. He'd thanked me for everything I'd done for him.
My heart stopped and I saw shining stars.
I bowed my head and ran out of the classroom.
I stopped coming to school after a while because I had gotten really sick.
I looked out the window of the hospital and almost threw up due to the motion being done to quickly. I heard a knock at the door and it opened.
The boy came in and gave me flowers. He blushed and thanked me for all the things I'd done for him, again. He told me that his mother had moved away from his father and that he stopped being hit. He patted my head and started blushing from embarrassment. He pointed to the black, figure in my hair and asked me why I still had "that stupid thing". I told him that it meant a lot for me because he was the only person to thank me for doing something without being told. It meant a lot to me because the boy meant a lot to me.
The boy came in a lot more and we started hanging out.
Soon, he became my best friend.
The boy still wore red shoes and still wore dark clothes, but was a lot more happier than he was in grade school.
He had black, rectangular glasses; black, unruly hair; pale, snow white skin; and was tall and lanky.
i asked the boy to give me a hug and i started crying. i hoped he wouldn't ever be sad. i hoped he'd always be the same boy in red shoes he had always been.
i heard my father crying in the hospitals halls through the doors. the boy left confused and i told him that he meant the world to me.
the boy eventually left and i never saw him again.
i heard my father shouting, "Why did you have to leave me like your mother? Am i the only one left in this family? Please don't leave... Please don't leave..."
my vision started blurring and my hearing became unable. my body relaxed and i was finally at peace.
