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He sat on the roof of the building, feet dangling over the edge, as he looked down upon the city.
The overpass was too busy, he couldn't focus on the lights and people below. He liked the silence, barely anything could be heard.
That's all he wanted, silence. Even then it was loud, too loud to stand.
The subtle changes in light distracting the boy temporarily. Distracting him from his own thoughts.
Wind blew from the west, causing the boy to pull his arms into his hoodie.
Taking a deep breath, the smell of petrichor invaded his nose as a light sprinkle of rain fell down on the city, but he continued to sit. Watching as the droplets began to fall harder.
Pulling his hand back though the sleeve of the hoodie, he held his hand out catching the small beads. His brown eyes scanning the drops as the clear water sat stagnant in his palm.
His hoodie was merely damp, but he decided it was time to head home. He didn't want to go, that house wasn't even a home.
It was a living hell.
Slowly walking down the flights of stairs, the mocha-skinned boy started to make his way to the house.
He didn't consider it to even be his house, the activities that were preformed in it kept him far from that statement.
His face was tranquil as he ambled down the alley. Not fearing what could be found in the darkness. Maybe he feared what was to be found in the house. The dingy colored house that sat at the end of the street.
Nearing the house shouting could be heard, his mother and father were fighting again.
Nobody ever bothered to call the cops, it wasn't their business or their problem. The neighbors acted as if they heard nothing.
Well, besides the boy next door to them. He wondered why they would fight all the time. His parents had rarely fought and the shouting emitted from the small one story house next door kept him awake at night.
He had seen their only child, Jahseh, leave constantly. He would be gone for hours. Stokeley felt as though he must be lonely. At school he didn't talk to many, and during lunch he'd sit alone. With everything going on in his life Stokeley figured the dread headed boy just didn't want to associate with anyone.
It was almost like Jahseh wasn't even there, Stokeley saw him even though it was obvious the other male would hide in the background to avoid unwanted conversation.
Not wanting to see his parents in their angered states, Jahseh walked to the side of the house and climbed through his bedroom window.
As Stokeley lay awake in bed the slight noise of the old window being opened caught his attention.
The short boy had no issues pulling himself up and into the house, careful not to fall and cause any commotion.
Being curious, Stokeley walked across his own room to pier out the window. Watching as Jahseh silently took off his shoes and made his way to the bathroom.
Shaking his head, thinking what he was doing must be weird, Stokeley got in his bed and pulled the blanket up to his chin.
Hours later, Stokeley was awaken by a noise.
It was early morning, barely that, the sun was nowhere near the horizon. Looking to his alarm clock Stokeley found it was five fifteen, no sixteen, in the morning.
Wiping his eyes he looked to his window, seeing Jahseh. He was pulling a bag out of his window and then began walking quietly.
Not wanting to miss this chance to befriend Jah, Stokeley hopped out of bed and slipped on some shoes while zipping his jacket. Stokeley was giddy at the chance of a new found friendship, so he quietly ran to the front door. Careful to not wake up his mother.
Following closely behind Jahseh, Stokeley soon realized the shorter boy must be going where he disappears to everyday.
That place being the abandoned buliding on 6th avenue. It was only a few stories high and wasn't in the best of shape.
Nobody ever came by the place, not even strung out junkies. Well for the most part. All the times Jahseh had entered the building it was empty.
He could finally be alone.
But today Stokeley set out to change that. He knew what it felt like to not have a friend, to not have someone to talk to.
Figuring it was better later than never Stokeley followed the boy.
