#someone was missing

--This is a sequel post to another post about a boy that has impacted my life: the boy between the pages (about different boys btw) PLEASE READ :)

Someone was missing.

And the day I realized it was probably the hardest of my life. I will never forget the image of too-young figures in black, smoking in the parking lot. There were two groups, the two that knew him best. We didn't know each other but now we were bonded forever. Even Before, we were similar. We were those kids; the ones your parents warned you about. The ones who had rowdy parties and stayed out late into the night. The shoplifters, the soliciters, the band groupies. We were all so different from each other. There were the tired intellectuals and the bad boys who got expelled from school chilling with the good girls with bad home lives drinking coffee with the Prince Charmings with mommy issues. But we were all misfits. The youngest of us was just 15.

Someone was missing.

And we all felt it. These two groups, that were so alike yet had such a distrust and hatred of each other, we felt it together. So we did what we do; we escaped. One way or another, my group found ourselves back at my house. As usual, it was open and warm for anyone to come in. The other group retired at a large brick house just up the street. We were all strangers, we are still.

I didn't know him. Except through rumors and stories and a shared joke or two in the hall at school. I still don't know him.

But I did know that he was beautiful.

He was one of his best friends. The one with the skip in his step and a permanent smirk on his lips. Those sharp blue eyes and boyish demeanor. That night, he parked a few feet from my house and headed to the brick house up the street. That cheerful disposition that marked his personality had left and put a vacant expression on his face. 

Someone was missing.

We opened his car door, it was unlocked like we knew it would be; he was one of us, and placed a single white rose, leftover from the ceremony, on the soft seat, with a simple note of understanding, unsigned.

And that very next moment as we ran back towards my house, I looked up at the stars and felt like that big hole inside of me, where someone was missing, was filled, just a little bit.