A collection of short scenes and stories

The boy next door

There is something I've been thinking about for the last couple of weeks, maybe thinking too much about.

It is now my 2nd year of being at my local high school, me being 17 and us moving here when I was 15. The new year has started, I don't have my driver's licence or any plans for my future but none the less I wake up and make the 15min walk to school. I don't mind the classes I have, but the teachers can make minutes seem like hours. I find PE to be interesting, not the physical activities but learning about the body, how such a complicated thing works, which I guess is also covered in science but I enjoy my PE teacher more and its a bit complicated for me in science. 

Last year was a hard one for me, I had trouble with motivation, was struggling with my personal life and had my younger step-sister move in with us. I had to take care of her, take her to the primary school and assist her with her movement as she had problems with her legs. It's not like my mother or father were around to help, it was no fault of their own, my mother worked night shifts and my father started early and ended his shifts late. The only reason she was here was that her father had, had financial troubles paying for medical supplies. He had thought it would be best if she moved in with us so she wouldn't suffer anymore. For that gesture, I respect him. It's also nice to have company in my sister. Her name is Niki and she always knows how to cheer you up! She talks with me on the weekend when mum and dad are tired out from work and always tries to help best she can. The only thing I struggle with is helping her constantly, which I know isn't her fault so I don't hold it against her.

I was walking home about 3 weeks ago when I stopped in the back yard, a place I only visited on occasion. I heard giggles, a young boy's giggles. And there he was, the young boy peeking over the fence. He had a  large smile on his face and a sparkle in his eyes. We talked for hours on end, about what well I can't recall. I just remember being happy, something I haven't felt in a long time.

The next day I went to the neighbour's house to see who the parents of the boy were because on the way to school I realised id never seen a young boy like him in the house before. Not in the 2 years, we've lived here. I went home, my head racing, id heard stories like this before, ghosts. The "boy" I saw lived there over 60 years ago, the owners were his grandchildren. 

I felt more empty knowing I felt some relief in something or someone who wasn't even really with me. Then a new boy entered my class, he looked like the boy, same colour hair, eyes and even had freckles. He has the same charm, wonder and the only difference he and the boy have are age, the young boy seemed about 10 years and this boy was my age. Maybe, next class, I will try to sit next to him, speak with him...