the boy and his acorn

how the world looks from up so high

~Evan's POV~
I skip out on the cafeteria during lunch.

I bring my lunch from home anyway, so I go outside, to the little clump of trees right behind the football field.

Last time I was in a tree didn't go so well. But it wasn't because of my footing, so it'll be fine.

I hold my lunch bag in my teeth and climb as high as I can.

I wasn't too hungry this morning so I'd only packed a Nature Valley granola bar and a Sunny D.

I leaned my head against the tree's trunk.

There's something ethereal from seeing everything this high.

I pull my earbuds out of my bag and jam them in my ears, trying to drown the symphony of self-deprecation out before it starts.

The soft beginning notes of cliché start flooding my senses.

I hum along, eating some of my granola bar, and somehow managing to catch all of the crumbs that fall.

I'm just like one of these. I'm all together before you open me. Then I fall into too many little pieces to hold.

That's the problem.

I turn my music up, desperate to drown the thoughts out. Desperate to stop them.

It works for a little bit but then they kick back.