Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders.
AN: I posted this on here a while ago. I took it down when I took a break from the site. I'm reposting it now.
There's a desk in the back corner of the classroom that's empty. It's where a dark shadow used to sit. I guess a ghost is a more accurate description. At first I thought he's just skipping. It's not unusual. Or maybe he's just sick.
But then I remembered the picture I saw in the paper a couple days ago. Something about a hood turned hero. I didn't pay much attention to it. I recognized his face, though. I've seen him around. He liked to hang with a tough crowd outside of class. But I don't know his name. The teacher goes through attendance, but his name isn't called. I guess it doesn't have to be. He'll always be absent. But I wish the teacher would call it anyway.
I didn't really care before. I don't know why I do now. He was always so quiet. He never raised his hand to answer a question or whispered to the people sitting next to him. I don't think I ever heard him speak. He was always just a shadow on the wall to me. But it feels wrong to have this empty desk, to have the name I don't know not called.
The teacher has us turn to page something or other and everyone carries on, like a name isn't missing, like that desk isn't empty, like some kid didn't just die, like that kid didn't matter. People die all the time; kids I don't know. But there's just something about an empty desk in the back corner that suddenly makes it more real than a newspaper article. I wish I know his name.