Boy
Un
Ryan stood there and watched her school burn down. She watched the dancing yellow flames overtake what used to be George Washington High School. Debris fell to the ground and screams were heard from those who had been saved that were now on stretchers and being loaded into ambulances. She only had one thing on her mind though.
It's a good thing she decided to skip school today.
People cried and held on to each other, for it really was a tragedy. Even worse, the police could find no evidence of who or what had caused it.
"Shit," Eric, her best friend for years said, shoving his hands in his pockets.
"Yeah, I know."
Ryan looked up at a window. Eric continued on to say something else, but she continued to stare up there, because she swore she saw a face staring back at her. She knew that face.
"Do you see that?" she asked, still staring. He stopped talking.
"See what?" She looked at him.
"That guy on the third floor, second window." Eric squinted his eyes to see through the bright flames.
"I don't see anything," she furrowed her eyebrows and looked back up there, seeing nothing.
"But…I saw…" She scratched her head.
"We should stop by the hospital so you can talk to the therapist while she's on the gurney. This is important."
"Shut up," she said, half serious. "I know what I saw."
"Okay, okay." He said, before wrapping his arm around her. "What school do you think we'll be going to now?"
"I don't know," she said, sinking back into him. "Probably some school in the suburbs or something. With a bunch of prudes." He grinned.
"They're saying that one kid did this." Ryan knew who he was talking about. The quiet boy would wore the same black plain hoodie everyday and said nothing. The boy she saw in the window.
"Though nobody knows how he did it, because there's no evidence. No gasoline or anything. Not even a match to work with."
"Why would people just assume he did it?"
"C'mon! The guy walks around looking like a flippin' serial killer, with his brooding looks and his black clothes…" Eric said, rolling his eyes.
"Maybe he's just not social."
"Maybe. Or maybe he's a flippin' maniac."
When Eric got on a roll, he said flippin' a lot.
It's a good thing she decided to skip school today.
People cried and held on to each other, for it really was a tragedy. Even worse, the police could find no evidence of who or what had caused it.
"Shit," Eric, her best friend for years said, shoving his hands in his pockets.
"Yeah, I know."
Ryan looked up at a window. Eric continued on to say something else, but she continued to stare up there, because she swore she saw a face staring back at her. She knew that face.
"Do you see that?" she asked, still staring. He stopped talking.
"See what?" She looked at him.
"That guy on the third floor, second window." Eric squinted his eyes to see through the bright flames.
"I don't see anything," she furrowed her eyebrows and looked back up there, seeing nothing.
"But…I saw…" She scratched her head.
"We should stop by the hospital so you can talk to the therapist while she's on the gurney. This is important."
"Shut up," she said, half serious. "I know what I saw."
"Okay, okay." He said, before wrapping his arm around her. "What school do you think we'll be going to now?"
"I don't know," she said, sinking back into him. "Probably some school in the suburbs or something. With a bunch of prudes." He grinned.
"They're saying that one kid did this." Ryan knew who he was talking about. The quiet boy would wore the same black plain hoodie everyday and said nothing. The boy she saw in the window.
"Though nobody knows how he did it, because there's no evidence. No gasoline or anything. Not even a match to work with."
"Why would people just assume he did it?"
"C'mon! The guy walks around looking like a flippin' serial killer, with his brooding looks and his black clothes…" Eric said, rolling his eyes.
"Maybe he's just not social."
"Maybe. Or maybe he's a flippin' maniac."
When Eric got on a roll, he said flippin' a lot.