The Boy Stood Up

The boy stood up. His black baggy shirt hung limply off his thin shoulders. There was an air about him of being unkempt. His face was occasionally broken out here and there; and a few days old wild patch of stubble ran rampant across his chin. He introduced himself; but his name was drowned out by the dull roar of idle thought which filled my mind.

"my friends are my whole life" I caught. My head turned. I was listening now. " I moved to Texas when I was 6 and when my parents lost their jobs; we moved back out here."

The teacher bit the head of his pen pensively as the boy spoke and then; at a pause asked "your friends are your whole life? why?"

A hesitation; and then a response "well, I dont get along with my parents that well. So I value my friends more because of that I guess."

"I see so your friends have become your family." The teacher remarked.

"Pretty much." the unkempt figure said sadly before retreating back to his chair. I caught the note of melancholy in his last line; and felt sad as well. I wanted to give him a hug. If only one could give a hug to everyone that was sad without them feeling uncomfortable. I didnt hug him.

And so, a day that could have been brightened by a simple act, is left dark.

What a shame.