I pulledmy hand away from my mouth and looked at the cut on my knuckle. It was still red and it looked a little swollen, but for now the bleeding had stopped. I stared at my backpack that was propped against my desk.
I should be doing my homework.
I needed to be doing my homework.
But after the fight with Sebastian, I was too wound up to concentrate on my assignments. I just needed to sit here and do something mindless.
The innocent made me shiver today.
Five.
Six.
Maybe seven was all he was.
I’d been him many years ago.
He didn’t see me.
He didn’t speak to me.
But he captivated me.
A fall caused him to cry out for help.
I’d been him many years ago.
Sobs tumbled from his mouth.
Tears ran from his eyes.
His eyes scanned the sore knee.
Hands quickly covered the wound.
I’d been him many years ago.
A parent rushed over.
His cries faded.
They assessed the damage.
They provided care.
I didn’t remember this.
Reassurance.
Comfort.
Solace.
Warmth.
Love.
It was a mistake.
