The Blind Boy | on hold

03 | past

kane | atalanta

Reaching the park, I feel a familiar warmth of ease wash over me. Being at this park makes me relax and feel automatically refreshed. It's not much, just this huge land with trees, picture-perfect green grass, daisies and many hearts connected to it.

I see people wandering around here all the time, young couples with children, elderly folks taking a stroll in the park, a man walking his dog, the sorts. This place isn't very famous, which means that it's usually the same people visiting again and again, for the same reason; the tranquility.

I walk over to a small tree and settle under it, basking in it's shade and enjoying cool air. I pull out my book, Exit West, and begin reading. Soon, I am immersed in an another world.

•

After reading for a good hour or so, I finally put away my book and stretch my arms, looking around at the world tiredly. My mind is still swimming with small fragments of the book, trying to decipher reality from fiction.

For once, I do nothing. I sit there, completely at ease, and watch the people walk past. Their bright clothes and smiling faces. My thoughts don't disturb me, they accompany me and I let them.

I feel empty. I'm not sure what's wrong with me, but this feeling has been creeping up on me completely out of the blue. I want to do nothing but sit and stare at nothing in particular but at the same time, at everything. Surroundings melt away as I sit for hours, gazing at the sky. Maybe I'm having an existential crisis.

Then out of nowhere...

I wonder what Kane's doing.

Damn it! Why can't I stop thinking about him? He's rude and shy and handsome and talented...

No, no, no. I squeeze my eyes shut tightly and groan. I don't want to have a stupid crush on someone. It's too much work.

But he's so beautiful. People say that a man can't be beautiful, but he is. And not just physically. He's good-looking, sure, but what makes someone truly beautiful is how they act. The way he fidgets with his hands...it's so endearing.

I want to see his eyes. I need to see his eyes. Like an itch you can't scratch. I need to see his eyes to complete the masterpiece that is him.

He intrigues me. He always has. Now I have the chance to get to know him and I am sure as hell not letting go.

•

The first time I saw him was quite strange. I was walking into school as usual, minding my own business, listening to a song by the neighbourhood and enjoying my own company. But then I noticed that the hallways looked strangely empty, there were students lingering around but not too many.

Then I found out the reason why.

He was there. Kane. The new kid, the new 'freak', they don't even know him yet they give themselves the right to label him as something he isn't.

Kane was being pushed around by some guys. It was horrible. He looked lost, confused, his hands outstretched infront of him in an attempt to stop the hits. When one of the boys tried punching him, he barely ducked. It seemed as though he didn't watch one of them get behind him and punch him from the back.

All along, I watched. I watched them beat him for no reason. Why? Were they jealous? How could someone do such an atrocious act and not feel guilty. It was like they were devoid of basic human emotions. I watched them warn him.

Don't come near us.

We don't want to catch what you have.

Go away, freak. Nobody wants you.

My heart broke with each second as I watched them leave Kane on the floor in the middle of the now empty hallways, a groaning mess.

I had taken pity on him. Nobody deserved this. So mustering up all my courage, I had walked up to him and helped him up.

"Are you okay?" I ask in concern.

"Does it look like I'm f*cking okay? Ughh..." He groaned, rolling over. "Please help me up and take me to the office."

I had immediately grabbed his arms, pulling him up with what little strength I could muster. Together, we had stumbled to the nurse's office. We never spoke again. Does he even know that it was me?