Alright, so I know I haven't updated in a while. My most sinscere apoligies. School life is not kind to one's imagination, not to mention the copious amounts of time it eats up. I haven't abandoned my other story, but this just popped into my head one day and I wanted to post it... enjoy! :)
Disclaimer: I don't own Alex Rider
The Boy with Brown Eyes
There's a boy that lives on my street; the boy with brown eyes. He arrived a few weeks ago, from England I think. He lives at number 22. I live at number 19. I watch him sometimes, when he comes out of the house. He doesn't come out much, but when he does he walks slowly with his head down and his hands in his pockets. Sometimes he looks up quickly and spins around, arms up in fists, like he's expecting to be attacked.
He never is.
He never smiles, the boy with brown eyes. Sometimes he looks like he's going to cry. I don't know why he's always so sad, the people he lives with are really nice – they're always trying to make him smile.
But he never does.
Once, when I was standing in our garden looking at him, he looked back at me. His eyes were so sad, like he couldn't see the happiness in the world anymore. Mum said that uncle Nev looked like that before he... took his own life, I think she said. I hope the boy doesn't do that.
He looks broken.
I hope the Pleasures can fix him. They try so hard, I can see. But it hurts them too, seeing him so lost.
There's a broken boy who lives on my street – the boy with sad brown eyes.