The Beginning

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You never had many friends growing up. You were often alone, listening to music and drifting off into space. You question why things are like this. There are many possibilities such as your awkwardness and lack of social skills. It always felt like people were staring at you. You didn't want to stand out yet you still wanted to be seen. It was a hopeless cycle.

Not many people approached you since they assumed you were sick. You always wore a facemask to school and were never seen without it. Some people came up to you throughout the years but they never stayed.

As much as you were pitied you were no fool.

It was obvious when they approached you to only make themselves feel better about themselves. They act like they are good people donating their time to the poor and unfortunate, as if you were some dog on the street, desperate for a bone. However, conversations were always cut short since you didn't know how to respond.

I'm never going to make friends, am I...

You walk through the loud hallways of your elementary. Children laugh and chase each other down the halls. Trees sway in the wind as their orange leaves fall onto the rough concrete. Gathering your materials from your cubby, you make your way outside for recess.

Instead of playing you take the time to work on arts and crafts. You made anything and everything out of paper and glue. Folding the paper firmly you glued it in half. You reached into your pouch to grab some crayons. Picking up a red crayon, you prepare to color.

A sharp wind blows and the paper gets carried away. Quickly letting go of the pouch you chase after it. The paper continues to go further and further away until finally getting stuck to the fence. You pick it up and sigh in relief. Suddenly a noise emerges from the bushes.

Feeling curious you turn around and walk closer to find the source. Moving the branches to the side you discover a brown-haired boy wearing a clown mask. He looks at you a little startled but then blankly.

It's hard to read him because of the covering of his face. He doesn't speak and just stares at you. This is awkward... Should I say something?

"Umm hi... I... I like your mask."

Still, no words form out of his mouth. Maybe I should just leave him alone? No this might be your only chance at making a friend!

"My name is y/n... what is yours?", you ask in a hushed tone. There is still no reply. Hmm, maybe he is mute or just doesn't like talking? Or maybe this is just a sign to go away. You can't give up so easily. You're bad at communicating too so you somewhat understand.

Although you are shy you felt less threatened by his quiet nature, making you ease up. You decide to give it another go but if it doesn't work you'll leave.

"You don't have to talk if you don't want to. Here I have a crayon and paper. You can write if that makes you more comfortable."

He reaches his hand out and accepts the offering. Hesitantly he looks down at the paper before deciding to write his name. "Michael? That's a nice name.", you comment while giving him a warm smile. He can't see it but he can tell by the way your eye creases.

"What are you doing here in the bushes?" He stands up and walks forward as if hinting for you to follow him so you do. The sound of leaves crushing is the only sound you hear as you both walk past the bushes.

Suddenly he stops and turns to you. It looks like we've reached our destination. You walk forward a few more steps to stand next to him. He turns his head and points ahead. Flies swarm the air and a foul smell enters your nose. You scrunch your face and look to see what he is pointing at.

In the grass lies a dead dog laying in a puddle of blood. Flies surround the body and maggots crawl on its carcass.

"Oh..." You don't know how to properly respond to the sight in front of you. Instead, you decide to act by gathering some of the leaves on the ground and covering the body. Feeling satisfied you wipe the dirt off your hands and stand up. It's not a proper burial but hopefully, it will be more at peace.

Michael turns to walk back to the fence, and you quietly follow him. Once you both get back the bell rings and kids start heading inside the school. "I have to go Michael but I enjoyed our time together. Do you want to walk with me to class?"

He gives you a blank stare. You've never seen him in the halls before the more you think about it. "Will I see you tomorrow?" He nods his head and sits back in the bushes.

You pick up your crayon and paper from the floor and return to the table you were sitting at to gather your items. You wonder if you meant what you said. Burying a dead animal isn't your type of fun but he is the first person to hang out with you during recess. He's a little strange but you like him. 


𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒕 (𝑴𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒍 𝑴𝒚𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)Where stories live. Discover now