The Lost Ones' Weeping

She stared at the boy before her. He didn’t look much different from the people around, disregarding the tattered clothing and the messy black hair. It was the eyes that reeled her in, though, piercing blue eyes dulled with pain. It reminded her of her own eyes.

“You shouldn’t be wearing those old things,” she huffed, “People will mistake you for a homeless person.” He shrugged.

“Better than wearing my school uniform all the time.”

“I’m too lazy to wear anything else on a school day, you know that!”

“I know…” They remained silent for a bit.

“Why are you happy?” she asked, “You hate school as much as I do; too much pressure. So why-?” He shrugged again and they didn’t discuss it for a few more days.

~*~

She remembered when she first met him. Kindergarten, first day of school. He didn’t seemed to have changed much since then, same quiet demeanor, same solemn look, maybe a bit sadder, she didn’t know. The girl, however, was quite different, short bob giving way to a long braid, glasses to emphasize her more studious personality, all traces of rebellion and that bubbly personality nearly gone. Maybe it was fate that brought polar opposites together. Maybe it was he who changed her to be more like him.

~*~

They sat again on the old swing set, pumping their legs back and forth. School day today, so they were in uniform.

“Remember how you wished you could fly by jumping off the swing?” she blurted out, brown eyes a little wistful as her skirt fluttered with movement. He shook his head. Back and forth, back and forth they went.

“You know what would be great?” he spoke.

“What?”

“No pressure to get good grades.”

“Hah! That would be the day.”

Neither of them mentioned how they were starting to fail their classes.

~*~

Now that she thought about it, both of them came from good family backgrounds full of promise. They weren’t abused, they weren’t going through some traumatic life event, they didn’t even have a reason to hate their loving parents! So then, why did it feel like they were trapped in a perpetual fog? He kept saying that he was happy, that he was fine with this existence. She knew better. Why else would she see the fog staining her glasses?

~*~

“Can anyone here solve this equation?” the teacher asked. Two hands shot up, hers and his. The teacher called on him and she sat back down. Behind her, the girl could here whispered giggles and she resisted the urge to turn around and glare at them. It seemed like the boy and her were the only ones to pay attention to the teacher. As the teacher droned on, her mind sometimes drifted off to who knows where before snapping back to attention like a soldier. When English came around, her hand was the only one to rise. He never did like that subject.

~*~

She wondered when was the last time she felt “happy.” Was it when she was a child? Possibly, but she couldn’t remember the last time she felt it, just that she was this when she was a child. And him? She didn’t know if he truly felt “happy.”

~*~

She got a text message from him to say meet him at the usual spot. It was nothing new, they always did this. So why was her heart pounding so fast when he wasn’t there? She began searching for him with a fever, darting between the trees as if she were only a shadow. There was nothing, and she was about to give up when she remembered there was another swing they met at. The girl raced over to the hill, climbing it as the single tree’s shade engulfed the hill. She froze the minute she reached the top. He was swinging gently in the breeze right next to the tire. A rope was around his neck. The next things that followed were a blur, but she remembered hearing someone crying and calling the ambulance…

~*~

She was there for the funeral and she was there when the school announced what he had done. Everyone was asking the same question: Why? She was asking the same thing, but perhaps she knew it all along. Her mind drew back to the first and last time she saw him smile. It was only a few days ago, after a particularly hard test. The girl wasn’t sure whether she was drunk at the time, be she distinctly remembered laughter and asking stupid questions to no one. She remembered his smart question, “What are we doing with our lives?” She just smiled at the time and said it didn’t matter, she’ll continue to live it despite the hardship. He smiled then and wished her luck.

And now he was gone. Was the boy testing her? If so, she was failing it, feeling darkness engulfing her mind and weighted clouds on her shoulders. And yet…she stared at the window in her room. And yet that one smile could simply not get out of her head, that one wish that should mean absolutely nothing but meant the world to her. She straightened her hunched over form, feeling a searing heat. Fine then, if the world was going to give her hell, then she’ll give it back! She smiled and took off her glasses before dropping it onto the floor and smashing it with her foot. She didn’t need it anymore.