He stood in front of the wooden door, starring through the opaque window. The people on the other side of the door were walking among the overcrowded streets of Rosewood, taking every single part of their lives for granted. He could see smiles hushing over their faces, while they were talking.
The boy attached his hood and plugged his headphones into his ears, turning the music on.
Loud enough to hear none of these voices out there, loud enough to feel as if he was somewhere else.
His hand reached for the iron handle, touching the cold metal he pushed against it and left the house, left the safety. His safety.
Dropping the gaze, he passed the street and moved forwards to school. Sneaking through the full floors, he hoped not to be seen by anyone. He knew people saw him but also that they didn't recognize him. They just overlooked him.
He entered the classroom, walking over to his chair in the left corner and sat down. He felt some pieces of paper hitting him, but didn't react. These paper pieces would fly around, unimportant what he did. The whole lesson, all he did, was stare at the clock above the board. The hands seemed not to move but anyway the lesson still ended. Leaving the classroom, he sat down in the cafeteria to have breakfast. All the tables were filled with students, eating their meals. Within one.
Only one person sat there, covering his face with a hood. Nobody who walked in or out, would get to this table.
The boy sat there alike every day, it was such usual that the others didn't even care. The others, stupid expression but that was the way it was. He wasn't like the others. At least that was what everybody thought about him if they thought about him. Most of the students, didn't even know his name.
As the boy stood up, his hand uncovered a word, written with a permanent marker onto the table. If people would get closer, they could have read what it said. Five letters, written there by a blonde in a yellow top. She had disappeared but the word and the boy were still there. It was what she left behind.
One day, a new student would come to the high school, his eyes covered with his long brown hair. Not knowing where else to sit, he would sit down at this table next to the boy in the black hoody. He would read the word but understand its meaning only weeks later.
"Caleb." He'd say, shaking the boy's hand. Surprised of being recognized, he'd answer: "Lucas."
Yet, they wouldn't know that they would become best friends someday.
Yet they didn't even know of each other's existence.
The boy in the black hoody left the cafeteria, everything that showed he ones had been there, were some crumbs, dispersed on some black letters. Dispersed on a word. Hermy.