A/N: I'm glad you are all enjoying these so far! Here's my second drabble, again sort of a downer. Enjoy!
Sunday's Best
"Where are you going dressed like that, Arnoldo?"
He sat down in his desk and exhaled. The black suit was awkward and baggy, with sleeves that hung low and mismatched buttons. It's not like he was trying to impress anyone, though. No, that was the least of his worries.
"A wedding, or something?" Helga jeered once more, her upper lip curving into a sneer that he could have sworn she was born with. He turned around and gazed, half-lidded, at his classmate.
"No, Helga," he replied calmly before turning back around. He heard her grunt in frustration as she sunk back into her chair, clearly defeated. He stared blankly at his desk, keeping his lips tightly pursed until class started.
And even then, he kept them shut. So tight that the inside of his lips started to bleed.
So there he was, dressed in his Sunday's best at his desk with thoughts stumbling through his mind like they had been caught in a tornado. He couldn't focus on anything, not even a sentence, without delving into his inner lips once more. Maybe if he bit hard enough, he would just stop thinking altogether. Maybe the taste of blood would take his mind off the bitterness on his tongue.
And so he sat in this delusional coma until the bell rang, and the taunts and heckles of his classmates followed him through the hallway. They were finally shut out when he slammed the metal door behind him and walked home, his eyes planted steadily on the ground beneath him.
Cars passed, but the only sound he heard was ringing in his ears. He didn't even seem to notice the sweat on his forehead and his overheated skin as he approached the boarding house.
Swinging his backpack over his shoulder, he took out a jar. And from the side of the boarding house, he grasped a shovel between his hands and walked straight through to the backyard. And he dug a hole.
Dressed in his Sunday's best, he dropped the jar of their ashes into the hole. Staring at the dirt-speckled cap, he felt tears swell over his eyes.
He cried for them, his parents. He cried for their journey, their fatal struggle.
He cried for the fact that he didn't even know them.
A/N: Sorry it was such a downer! Don't worry, hopefully my next one will be a Rhonda/Curly, maybe even a Gerald/Phoebe, nice and lighthearted! Review and let me know what you thought, or suggest some ideas or pairings!