brown haired boy ✓

fourteen.

and scared that he was going to leave, i followed him.

i could at least say goodbye.

i followed him back to the tracks without him knowing to see if he would keep walking and leave this bullet hole on the outskirts of town.

i watched him walk onto the tracks and stand in the middle looking defeated. his shoulders slumped, his hair a mess, his body basically falling down itself as his hands covered his face and sobs wracked his body.

and as i saw the midnight train round the corner, my heartbeats quickened; i stared at miles, hoping he'd keep walking off the tracks.

but he didn't move, he didn't move an inch.