Broken-hearted

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⊰᯽⊱┈──╌❊ - ❊╌──┈⊰᯽

The sun was shining brightly that day, but it wasn't just any day, it was the day. Summer vacation had begun, children were running around the park after their friends, having fun, smiling. But one of them didn't share the same feeling, he was sitting under a tree in a far corner just watching the others, that child was Rocky.

Rocky was a lonely child, not by choice in part, the other kids saw him as a stranger and often avoided him or just left him aside, in parts Rocky thought it was because he was just an ordinary person without something that called himself the attention, it was just him.

Or maybe it was because he was weird. Pale skin, gray hair despite his young age and the eye patch. That little piece of clothing covering his left eye always made the other kids whisper to each other and often point at him giggling.

"His hand passed over his eye patch as he exhaled heavily, looking up at the reddened late afternoon sky, the same sky as that day. But now it had some dark clouds on it."

The boy opened the book that was in his lap, his faithful silent companion full of difficult words that often made him lose himself in a fantasy and colorful world. But a hand touched his head, a small, warm hand, along with a pleasant aroma that invaded his nostrils, chocolate and roses.

His attention was completely taken by the figure in front of him, it was another child, smaller and visibly younger than himself, with brown hair and golden eyes, a few freckles outlined his tan cheeks, his thin lips showed a wide and excited smile, which disappeared for a brief moment to give way to an energetic and smooth voice, by the way severely pleasing to Rocky's ears.

"Once again a melancholy sigh left his lips, that voice..."

- Do you want to play? - Without introductions or ramblings, the other child went straight to the point and extended his hand, which he held a green paper plane. - You the green and I the orange.

In that small moment when he looked into the others eyes, Rocky felt something he had never felt before, something that made him smile, naturally and spontaneously.

His gaze was still locked on vibrant gold as he sucked in air into his lungs and responded only low, barely audible.

- Why not?

Until that moment it was just a day, but now was the day, the one in which he had gained a friend, even if a very peculiar one, he must admit, they had spent the whole day playing there by the tree, which now wasn't just any tree, it was the tree.

The sun was starting to set, turning the sky reddish, families were starting to withdraw, a voice not far away called out to Rocky, it was his mother, and even though he didn't want to he looked at, as he was now calling even though he had only known him for only few hours, friend.

- I have to go now.

The youngest just watched him sadly, but nodded, Rocky was going to return the green plane, but the other nodded and expressed a sweet smile.

- It's for you.

Rocky smiled with that, and thanked the other. He was about to run to his mother, but he stopped and looked back to asked a question, not just any question, it was the question.

- What is your name?

- Zuma. - Replied the little brunet with a sweet smile. - And yours?

- Rocky.

And with a wave of his pale hand he ran to his mother, who was looking a little surprised and with some curiosity at her son who was approaching smiling widely and with a small green plane in one hand and the book in the other.

16 Years AgoWhere stories live. Discover now