Every Little Thing

I didn't know what else to do. I just went home. I was sitting on my bus, usual seat, just in reverse. I didn't want to be anywhere near to her. I just wanted to be away from her. Far away. I was getting glances and stares from the other people on the bus, including the little kid in front of me. I sat with my back up against the window, hands gripping the poles of the seats beside me, knees pulled to my chest, lucky that I wore shorts today. I couldn't care less though. I was empty. I couldn't stop the tears. The little kid in front of me was a boy. He looked about 3. He had brown hair that was messily falling over his small pale face. He was watching me. Watching me with his big brown eyes. Watching the pathetic mess that Ally had left behind, watching the tears fall down my face. I looked away and rested my face upon my knees. I sobbed, I felt my body shaking. I felt someone touch my hand, and I looked up. The small boy, his small hand resting on mine. I tried to smile. But i just couldn't. I didn't have the strength. The boy's head leaned down and he kissed my hand lightly.

"Come on, William, it’s our stop sweetie," his mum said to him smiling sweetly.

"Is that girly gonna be okay, mummy?" he asked, obviously referring to me.

"I hope so love," she answered.

"Me too!" his small voice echoed through the packed but quiet bus.

That boy was so sweet. He reminded me of my little brother when he was younger.

When I got home, I was surprised to see my brother sitting on the lounge.

"What are you doing home?" I asked, in my nasally, post crying voice.

"Hurt my hand," he told me, holding up his wrist which was wrapped in a bandage.

I sniffed back my tears that were forming again.

"What's wrong?" he asked me, concern and slight nervousness in his voice.

"Nothing" I answered.

"Liar."

"Shut up."

"Tell me."

"No." I walked to my room. I was surprised to see him following me.

"Tell me," he begged. "Please sis, it must be hurting you. I can see that it is."