The Little Angels

Sometimes, angels come in the most unconventional forms of the form, of a simple child....

Diary Entery

Xian Nahoka
April 3rd 2007
Age 13

I saw him on the road, that pale little boy. I saw him every day. We took the same road home, he had moved in next door, and yet he never spoke a word, not to me, and not to anybody.

His scared eyes were masked behind thick-framed glasses, his black hair like a fluffy main-always unkempt. He seemed so lost, like in a distant land, far away from the planet Earth, and no matter how much strength I tried to muster up, I never found the courage to call out to him, after all, I didn't know his name. Nobody did.

I want to.... know him. (Then again, I want to know everyone) I’m sure he's really a nice guy. His eyes tell me he's shy, but kind and sweet, with a slight dab of a secret innocence dancing about in the mix. Though he does seems slightly like a wimp (but that I can tell from his physique!)

 You know, you can always tell by the expression in one’s eyes. They are the windows into a man’s true heart. I'm curious... what stories do my own pair of "windows" tell people<-

 I wonder, are my eyes nice? I wonder if that boy would like me too....really, I do. I wonder what my heart is really like. I wonder if our colours will blend and mix. I wonder too much. Maybe I will find out some day. No, I decided I will definitely find out one day...soon! I promise I will! I swear I will! One day soon, after I've finally collected all the courage in the world, I would call to him, and we would be great friends. I could tell!



The End

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