Beautiful Tragedy

The boy was sitting all on his own, eating nothing, but a plain ol' salad. Not that the food had any real importance; it was the boy that mattered. I felt pity and oddly, guilty for his lonesomeness. He was beautiful - how horrifying that I so boldly admit that - how could someone so beautiful be so alone?

I hadn't seen the scars until he'd lifted his head - only to bring it back down after seeing me (I'd caught his eye in the corner of my own) - but in my mind he was still gorgeous. He had icy blue eyes, the really pretty ones that I find to be the most attractive and dark, almost black hair. His skin was pale and flawless, he was a bit too skinny, but from the looks of him, I knew he had the potential to be fuller if he'd eat a bit more. When I'd allowed my gaze to drop bellow his face, that's when the mild horror came over me. Shivers ran down my spine as I gazed at the misfortune that had replaced what used to be a hand. In replace of flesh and bone was metal. It had the shape of a hand and somewhat functioned like one, but we all knew that it in fact was not a hand.

I looked away, trying to get the image out of my head and realizing how big headed I was being. This boy was so gorgeous and I let one flaw bring down his beauty. He didn't deserve that. I looked up again, getting a quick glance before turning to one of the jocks that had yanked me into their group.

"Who's that kid?" I asked, really wanting to know his name. He had to have a gorgeous name that fit his gorgeous face.

"That's Niko Belle, he's a freak."

I'd ignored the last part, because all I heard was his name. It fit him so well. Niko was unique and totally hot. Belle meant beauty and boy, was he a beauty.

"I heard his neighbor chopped off his hand."

My attention snapped back to my table and the comments people were saying about Niko. My stomach churned at the horrible stories. These people were sick, beyond mad. I wanted to hit some of them, I wanted to speak up and defend Niko, but I didn't. I didn't know Niko well enough, I mean, what if some of the things they were saying were true? I hoped they weren't, because then, I'd... well I don't know what I'd do.

I looked back up at Niko's table and his ice blue eyes met mine. Our gazes held for only a moment and then I looked away. My heart twisted in my chest from the look on his face. He'd heard everything that had been said and I knew that none of the things had been right.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

My last three classes of the day were pretty simple. History, pre-genetics and French. French was fun and even though I'm from France originally, my native tongue is English. I did know a few phrases, though, which made me pretty happy. I also shared the class with Niko and I saw this as my chance to get to know him.

He sat in the back by the window and had his notebook out already, doodling. I glanced around, seeing that people were choosing their own seats and so I sat next to him, quietly sliding into my seat.

He looked up in surprise, eyes widening a little more at my presence. His mouth opened slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but it closed again before any sounds came out.

"Hi," I said. "I'm Echo."

"Niko," he whispered, almost too quiet. He brought his hand down over his hair, pulling it over his face and crossing his arms, hiding his makeshift hand.

"I wanted to, um, apologize, about earlier at lunch. The things they said -"

"It doesn't matter," he mumbled, cutting me off. "I've heard it a million times before."

"Doesn't make it any less painful."

He winced a little, but stayed strong. "Just let it go, okay?"

"What actually happened?"

He froze at the question, seeming to shrink inside himself and turning away from me quickly. "Nothing happened," he whispered, closing his eyes.

I opened my big fat mouth to say something else, but stopped when I saw the tiny flash of silver rolling down his pale cheek. My lids lowered in shame, for I had pushed him when I shouldn't have.

"Sorry," I said and turned away, too guilty to look at him any longer.