The sky was still dark. Not your normal kind of dreary, nighttime darkness, but an all-encompassing sheet of black that seemed to immure every lively thing underneath it, locking them all up so that only an unshakable feeling of emptiness was left. Despite the early hour, no birds were chirping. A silence filled the air. A silence broken only by the fluttering of a dragonfly's wings, the diaphanous material that would normally scatter the sunlight limp and dull in the impenetrable gloom.
On the bench, a young boy sat. His raven locks and forlorn persona helped him blend in with his drab surroundings. He was alone but for the fluttering dragonfly, ensconced in his thoughts, hidden from the world by the inner workings of his mind. A small frown lingered on his lips, the creasing of his eyes the only fulfilled parameter that gave his sense of ineffable unhappiness away.
At the snap of a branch his head jerked up. In a volte-face his mask was back up, his lips pressed in a straight line, his eyes neutrally gazing at the dragonfly. He had no time to show weakness to the hoi polloi. A rabbit hopped out from the bush directly across his bench and his shoulders slumped in relief. It wasn't one of the common masses after all but instead an insouciant rabbit, gleefully looking for fresh grass, blissfully unaware of the bilious nature of the world.
He let his façade drop as he stared longingly at the cheerful creature. To feel a commensurate amount of joy, know that would be a miracle! But even he with his lack of divination skills could predict that such thought was nowhere in his future. He rubbed the purpling splotch on his wrist. It was pure folderol to believe otherwise.
With a sigh he tore his gaze away from the rabbit before his dark mood could be further vitiated. His gaze refocused on the plain bench before him, taking in its plain, worn down planks, browbeaten into disarray by the contumelious weather over the years. There was an affinity between them, both being deteriorated by the traumatic experiences of life, When another snap sounded he ignored it. The rabbit must have hopped back into the bush. But a tan hand landed on his arm, right on top of the purple blemish marring his skin.
"Are you alright?" The words were simple. A touchstone. The raven-haired boy raised his head, looking into risible blue eyes that seemed to dance with pure, untainted laughter.
"I'm fine". And as a corollary smile wound its way onto his lips, a beam of sunlight broke through the all-encompassing sheet of black.