The Boy Who Ran

The hazel coloured sky reflected in his deep brown eyes. The storm in his eyes envied the calm raindrops outside.

He was walking back home from school after a rather terrible day. Earlier, a girl abused him and treated him like dirt, while the silence of the class made him deaf. He committed a grave crime of speaking up in a society that's petrified of truth. 

What was his fault, you ask me? 

Well upon being made fun of, he tried to reply with a joke too.

Grotesque, right? 

I mean how could he be so intolerant to could not have taken a joke upon himself :( 

He returned to his safe haven of a home, 

or so he thought. 

With a dejected feeling, he told his mum, dad, and sister in order to pick his shattered self up, 

The beginning to end, the story as it went, 

The reply he gets :

"You only must've done something, she isn't crazy to just lash out like that." 

He looked across the room to wonder, was he really that monstrous as everyone made him out to be? 

Were really all his good deeds just an attempt to fulfill a creeping validation in life? 

And like that a million insecurities bubbled out. 

He ran to his room, running and crying, 

He reached to his phone to call up his friends, 

But his phone was booming with notifications, 

The girl had accused him online of harassing him and his reputation was surely hanged on the online court of social media. 

He was bereft of life, 

His brother returned home a couple of minutes later, his family told him the story. He understood him. 

His brother rushed to the room, 

But perhaps was he too late, 

He lay there, lifeless. 

Took his own life because he got scared. 

On the door were carved the words that live in infamy 

"I'm sorry." 

He was the boy run away on the stairs of heaven,

Stairs as fickle as sand for the world,

As for them he fell straight beneath hell. 

- Vanshit Mehrotra

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