Woebegone
Twelve
“You got a new watch?” he asks
I nod.
I thought it would work. It doesn’t. He’s not stupid. I cry when he slides the watch from my wrist. He sees the scar, and I see it in his face, the sadness, spirits in his eyes. I think about lying to him, telling him it was an accident but I know he’ll never believe me. His fingers are too afraid to touch, so instead they touch my lips. He traces them like a map. He’s a tough boy, this kid, but I see a weakness in him. Me. I’m the weakness, and it both fills me with light and darkness at the same time.
I nod.
I thought it would work. It doesn’t. He’s not stupid. I cry when he slides the watch from my wrist. He sees the scar, and I see it in his face, the sadness, spirits in his eyes. I think about lying to him, telling him it was an accident but I know he’ll never believe me. His fingers are too afraid to touch, so instead they touch my lips. He traces them like a map. He’s a tough boy, this kid, but I see a weakness in him. Me. I’m the weakness, and it both fills me with light and darkness at the same time.