Maybe I'm Wrong


I allow the next song to start without hitting “repeat”, again. With a furtive sigh, I begin reading The Catcher in the Rye; English homework. My eyes wander to the kids outside. Absent-mindedly, I find myself remembering the last time I went out.
It was a Thursday in early May. I had just trudged home from school, and some kids had followed me home.
Hey, Kris! They called, pelting paper at my back. I could hear their jeering laughter. Kris, come ride your bike with us!
I can’t.
Boo hoo, poor Kris! What did you eat at lunch today?
Didn’t you hear? One of them interupted with a smile. There was no food left in the school when he finished! Their laughter grew so loud that my mother came running out of the house, waving a broom at them.
Shoo! She yelled at their terrified faces. Leave him alone!
I didn’t go back to school after that; didn’t go outside. But, sometimes I think things would be better if I had.
But maybe, I’m wrong.

The End

3 comments about this story Feed