Days dragged into weeks and weeks, months. Time has never seemed so slow. I watch the kid come in and out of our shop unnoticed, ghost-like. No one seemed to see him enter, only feel the wind that swept in the door. He always goes to that one stuffed rabbit and mumbles to himself. I hear him speak about someone named Emma and the name Overland pops up occasionally as well. He talks of happy times and bad times; his face displays it all.
Time doesn't appear to touch Jack. He's always the same height. He's always worryingly skinny. He always wears blue.
Jack wears blue like mourners wear black. There's a sadness in his eyes that never seems to fade. He walks as though the world rests on his small shoulders.
He still sleeps under our porch. He'll stand on the streets and watch the world pass him by for hours on end before moving on. No one notices this odd habit; no one notices him. He usually seems fine with it and then he spotted a small family. They all had brown hair and brown eyes and the parents walked with a snobbish air. The young girl seemed pretty nice, though. When the parents saw Jack, they tried to avoid his eyes.
"Emma!" Jack called out to the girl.
She seemed confused when he said her name.
"Who are you?"
Jack crumbled. I've never seen such an expression in my life. He mumbled something about having known her when she was little before walking back towards the shop. The parents kept sending him glares as they told their daughter not to talk to strangers.
…
After the shop closed for the night I sought out Jack. He wasn't under the porch and he wasn't in the streets or alleys, so I headed for the next town. I came upon a lake near the town's entry. It was near an old cabin that probably hadn't seen use in years. That's where I found Jack.
He was screaming at the moonless sky.
A/N: Next chapter will be in Jack's point of view.
