Alone

Tangerine sunlight drips on Aaron as he walks down the sidewalk. He quiets Jen to hear the end of Frankie’s joke. Claire chimes in, flashing her new candy-stripe nails. Aaron’s attention zigzags between the three and he feels warm panic bloom in his stomach. Sweat slides down his skin, but it doesn’t really feel like it’s flowing from his pores.

A lone boy in his late teens drifts down the street. He treads with jagged steps, dragging his feet. Wind rushes through his greasy hair, tying it into thick knots. The boy’s threadbare parka barely shields him from the cruel, cold weather. Rain begins to storm down, but he continues to walk, unfazed.

Jen notices the anxiety that’s dripping down Aaron’s face. She leans in close and whispers that he should calm down. Frankie and Claire listen in, smiles spreading across their faces. Laughter flutters around Aaron’s friends and suddenly he feels silly. He should know he never has to worry with them. He can see their bond reflected in the envious faces around them; people who so desperately want to cut the ties that bound them together. It’s something special for them alone.

His presence makes others’ insides quake with pity and fear. Passing pedestrians veer to the side to avoid the solitary teen; no one wants to be near a person who aims his jumbled words at empty spaces of air. A couple huddled under a purple umbrella come dangerously close to him and for a split second they can see his mangled mind creep through his eyes. Shivering, they hurry on, trying to shake off the sorrow they feel. No matter how hard they try to push the thoughts away, neither of them can help but wonder who ‘Jen’ is or why the boy kept on smiling.