The football stands roared at the top of their lungs with excitement as the game continued on, the players reflecting the stadium lights as if they were new and shiny toys. The game had brought many to the biting cold night to watch the local high school athletes play. The heat of baking treats and foods lured people in to spend money on their snacks, while the marching band played on loudly.
Among the crowd was a simple man. He was a neighbor of the school, coming simply to enjoy the show and fresh air. Everyone who knew him described him as a quiet and thoughtful man, who spent more time in his head than on Earth. He chuckles at such descriptions as they made him sound as if he was more, or less, of a man. No one could decipher his thoughts, and even if they could, they would never know the true meaning anyways. Not that he knew his own thoughts either. It was plain and simple. He was broken, he thought.
Half time have time to walk around the wild jungle of the stadium, and he found himself walking on the concrete sidewalks, heading the crowd's cheerful screaming, letting it fill his head until he couldn't hear any more of his thoughts. The horrible thoughts that separated him from his own people. The sounds of the crowd filled every gap of his brain, allowing nothing else to be heard, as if the screaming were his own thoughts. It was somewhat peaceful, yet chaotic all the same. Beautiful, yet ugly. Good, yet bad. A paradox, truly.
It was against the wall of the concessions that he saw them. A tiny child sitting behind a trash can, watching the crowd go by. He tried to ignore them at first, but as he tried to walked away staring, the child met his eyes. He stopped, his body freezing in front of the youth and the world passing on regardless.
"Where are your parents?" He asked, not willing to break eye contact.
"I'm waiting for them," responded the child in a monotone voice.
"Is there anyone else you can stay with until they come?" He asked again. The child looked lonely and sad, and he couldn't bear the look.
"I'm waiting for them too," they simply stated.
"Do you know when they will come for you?"
"Soon."
The man could not think of anything other to say to the child, although there was so much more supposed to be said, but the answer was in a different tongue he could never pronounce. Some sort of languages didn't know, but one that he thought in all the same.
It was too late to stay, as the man was swept away by the eccentric crowd, leaving the child on the wall, where they stared at the sky in something resembling anticipation.
Hours later, the football game had long been over, he walked his way to the exit, to see the little child staring at the night sky, right where he saw them the first time. Damn his running mind.
"What would you like to ask me?" The child questioned.
"How did you know what I was intending to say?" He asked, although the words that flew out of his mouth weren't his own, almost becoming the child's voice instead.
"I can see it in your eyes," they responded with a knowing smile, but the same soul piercing eyes. "They run just as fast as your thoughts."
"Haven't your parents come for you yet?"
"They are on their way. They will be here soon."
"The game ended hours ago."
"And?"
"What about your friends?"
"They are with my parents. They are almost here."
"Would you like me to stay?"
