Short Stories

The Sad Boy

He was a sad boy.

Every morning he'd get up, change, eat breakfast, brush his teeth and head out. He'd take the long way to the park where he sits for hours, watching people pass, before he heads to work.

He sits on his special bench and counts the morning joggers who are always consistent. He smiles in his head at the couples with dogs, the dogs running around, excited and happy as he once was.

He would get that early enough that he could watch the sunrise alone as the people disperse to go to work or school. His thoughts were the only consistent companions and they never left him. They taunted his almost happy thoughts as he observes those around him and they drain him as he goes through the day.

After watching the sunrise, he'd get up, walk through the park and enter the fast food restaurant where he works. He stares up at the menu and thinks of all that could be, all that could happen, but none of it shows on his face. He stares blankly.

The day wears on and he takes down orders, delivers them, and repeats the process.

Every day was the same. Every day was gloomy, dull, a same routine. Until she came.

He was sitting on the bench, watching the morning joggers and waiting for the sun to rise.

He saw a flock of ducks sitting at the edge of the pond. He sighed and got up, changing just a bit of his routine.

He reached into his bag and got some bread, feeding the little ducklings and whatever ducks decided to come. It made him feel a bit better for some reason.

He crouched and let his bag fall on the grass. Ducks swarmed towards him and he fed them in silence. His thoughts his only other companions.

He was about to smile at two little ducklings playing on the water but one was pushed and turned upside down and his almost smile faded. The memories flashed back and his hands started to shake. He got up and took a deep breath, the sun already slowly rising.

Upset at the little change of his schedule and the memories that came to haunt, he hurried to work and missed staring at the menu. He stared at the white paper in his bag instead.

His eyebrows scrunched, his lips in a thin cold line, he reaches in to take the paper. He leaves his bag in his locker and he opens the folded paper.

Hi. You looked lonely and really sad. Thought this could cheer you up. Maybe. I shouldn't be writing any letters to a guy first, but, I just felt like I had to do this. Have a good day.

He fought the urge to crumple the paper. This must be from a girl and it must be out of pity. He thought. He sighed and stuffed the paper to the bottom of his bag, forgetting the paper for the rest of the day.

When he got home, he took it out again. How sad he must truly be. To be noticed by a stranger and to be judged of like this.

He lied down on his back, eyes to the ceiling, imaginary scenes playing across the white paint. His hands shook slightly as the memories flood him.

Suddenly, a face formed on the ceiling and he wondered who it was.

He went to sleep that night dreaming of that face.

The next day he went through his normal routine, ignoring the quacking of his duck friends. He sat on the bench, waiting for the sunrise, walked through the park, eyes down. Something felt off.

Shoes in front of his stopped him suddenly and he looked up to see that he'd bumped into her. That face.

She tilted her head and smiled. He didn't know what to do.

She held out a paper for him and gave him one last look as she walked away.

He opened the paper.

I'm glad I saw you today. Watching the sunrise must make you feel better... Maybe it's a sign that the sun will rise on you too. No matter how dark the night.

He marvelled at this girl. How young but wise she seemed.

The new routine went on for three months. He soon had a box full of letters from this girl. She was not a stranger exactly, but she was not a friend either. She was simply the girl who gave letters, the girl who reminded him of the beauty in the day, the sun that rises after dark. She was that girl.

Until the day she stopped.

He wondered why she didn't sit on the bench beside him to watch the sunrise. Why she didn't pretend to bump into him to give him a letter. Why she didn't stop by the restaurant to order her usual.

He wondered why until a letter arrived.

I'm afraid my time has come and my cancer forces me to say goodbye. I remember seeing a faint smile from you the day we fed the ducks after the sun rose and you were almost late for work. I prayed to see that smile again and I hope you are smiling that small, shy smile now. It doesn't have to be big or exciting, just a smile. Small steps. You have much to go through in life and I'm glad I spent the last months of mine with you. To my friend, the sad boy, I hope you see the beauty of life and find true happiness. You deserve it.

He didn't know the tears were falling. He didn't realize the day was turning into night. He didn't know that she took her last breath just then. He didn't know until he was delivered another letter in messy writing and tear stains.

Goodbye, Sad boy.

He looked up and saw the moon full, the night illuminated by such bright light. And then the stars came out.

He made a decision then.

"I decided to say goodbye to the sad boy, just as she did." He says with a bright smile. His twins look up at him, his wife smiling lovingly. "I made the decision to live a good life. She only had months left but she changed my life. And I decided to do the same."

His wife walks towards him and plants a kiss on his cheek. "And you changed mine. Not my sad boy, but my one and only."

He smiles and hugs his family close. How far he's come from being the sad boy. How far you go, when you say goodbye.