1 the boy's missing smile

Once upon a time, there was a boy.

A sad boy, to say the least, with dark chocolate eyes and messed up hair that he didn't bother to ever fix. An angry boy, throwing all the faults at the world around him.

But he wasn't always the sad, angry, depressed kid they made him to be.

In fact, he used to be the kid that everyone adored, the one that always had a smile decorating their face. He was the kid everyone wanted to be friends with—or at least claim they were friends with him.

But he should've known his happiness and smiles wouldn't last forever.

His mother died during the winter of 2010. He was 11 at the time, and even though he was young, he could feel his whole world come crashing down with the simple words of one person.

"She couldn't make it."

She couldn't make it.

Maybe she didn't fight hard enough. Or maybe she didn't want to make it. But it didn't matter—none of it did. She was gone, and no one could bring her back.

It's cliché, actually, for your mother's death to be the reason why you changed your way of seeing the world. It's stupid to say that you were no longer the smiling, happy kid everyone liked because your mother died in a car accident.

But it was true.

The day of her funeral was probably the saddest day of his life as he stood feet away from his mother's casket, tears streaming down his cheeks. He wouldn't admit it, but he felt so broken watching people pile bouquets of flowers on her body.

"Chin up, kid," his father would tell him. The boy knew his father wouldn't show any remorse for his dead wife. "Stop crying. Real men don't cry."

All he could do was nod and wipe his tears. His father walked away and towards the casket thanking everyone for coming.

He couldn't stay any longer.

He ran out of the church, slamming the doors behind him. It was raining that day, as if God was crying with him. He fell onto his knees and screamed towards the skies, asking why they took his mother. He wished they would give him an answer, but deep inside he knew it wouldn't happen.

The day he returned to school, he felt as if he were in a living hell.

He could feel everyone's eyes on him as he made his way through the halls, their whispers loud enough for him to hear.

"I heard his mother died in an accident last month."

"Poor kid. How could he even show his face when something like that happened?"

"Shouldn't he be at home with his family?"

"He probably killed her."

It shouldn't have been such a big deal to others, but some people were just so nosy and couldn't mind their own business.

"Hey." Someone had approached him at lunch one day, his hands stuffed in his pockets. "Heard your mother died, huh?"

He didn't reply and continued to eat his sandwich. His eyes were emotionless, as if he were a robot being controlled. The usual sparkle in his eyes was no longer visible.

"Just wanted to say I'm sorry." The boy sat down in front of him and offered a smile, but he ignored him and closed his lunch box, getting up and leaving. The boy stared at him confused before following him.

"Hey!" he yelled through the empty halls, chasing after him. "Wait! Where are you going?"

He turned around and stared at the boy, anger filling his eyes. "Stop following me," he growled. "I don't care what you have to say."

"I'm just tryna tell you I—"

"I didn't ask." He turned around and walked away.

That was the last time anyone had tried to talk to him, the last time anyone showed that they cared. Until she came along, that is.

Her name was May.