"We're pretty small, aren't we?" I observe the many ridges on my fingers for something to do to avoid looking at his expressions. I see them anyway out the corner of my eyes, his mouth curved to a frown.
"What?"
I lower my hands. I look straight ahead into the forest. "We're only twelve, and yet we've seen so much already that other people our age hadn't even seen yet."
I go quiet, and he looks at me.
"That makes us older, not smaller," he says.
"Smaller," I insist, feeling somewhat sad on the subject. He turns his head away, probably noticing, and doesn't say another word, but I go on.
"I think everyone in this world has to have one really bad thing happen to them. It can be a small, bad thing, or a big bad thing. It would make sense for the bad thing to happen when we're older, right? Because that's when our minds can understand more, I think. But the bad thing—it's already happened to us. It's like we're already adults." I hesitate, noticing and going over what I'd said. "I don't think I know what I'm saying."
"I know what you're saying." He doesn't look at me; just continues to stare straight ahead. We both seem like we're staring into the forest and not paying any mind to what we're saying, but we're not doing that. I'm not doing that.
"But I don't agree with what you're saying."
I glance at him. He gives no change in expression.
"You're saying that we're going to die sooner than the others," he says. "You think the bad thing is like a marker marking the midpoint of our lifespan, when in reality, the bad thing does not matter at all." His eyes flash dangerously. "Bad events only mark the beginning of a long life. People who start out well don't live long at all. It's the people with bad experiences that get the most out of living."
I cast my eyes downward, thinking and comparing. He rises to his feet suddenly.
"I'm going home."
I watch as he walks down the road to disappear into the village, his head going out of view. His thoughts surprised me, but mostly, they upset me. I was scared. What he said made sense, and what makes sense could be true. But I just can't imagine myself living that long.
He's probably had a much more bad experience than I have, which means he'll live longer.
Should we wish for the bad things to happen, or the good?