Fragile

A Few Words, with So Much Time.

Thursday, 4:50 p.m. , an hour after dismissal

Jack slouched lazily upon the wooden bench that he has become fond of sitting on when he had nothing important to do. He remembered the sweet ringing of the bell that signaled dismissal time for the campus. His eyes followed the random people that walked in front of him. They were an assorted bunch consisting of students like himself, teachers for the lower grades, and the maintenance staff. His eyes followed them and watched the paths that they walked in, but not once did he bother to look at their faces.

There were a lot of people that walked in front of him, but Jack saw them as shadowy figures that hovered around him, looking for a destination to go to. To him they looked like ghosts looking for the path to heaven, or poor lost souls wandering around, believing that they are still alive. As he sat, he found himself tightly clutching the notebook which he had been writing on yesterday.

The notebook that destroyed him yesterday. The notebook, the only object that Jack bothered telling his deepest secrets to, for fear that he might be the victim of a scandal, a controversy. It hurt him to remember the fact that it would be extremely hard for him to find a trustworthy person to talk to about the worries and pains of his life.

He heaved a great, big sigh, and whispered softly to himself.

"Words are meant to be spoken out loud, not hidden in writing."

Jack sat up straight an opened the notebook. His fingers caressed the pages of the notebook gently, as if it was a delicate piece of art. As if it was made of glass. He carefully opened the notebook, and he slid his fingers on the pages that were already filled with the words he had written. Even though he had only written yesterday, it felt so long ago.

After a few minutes passed by, boredom slowly crept up to Jack. He unzipped his backpack, which sat beside him, and kept the notebook. Standing up, he carried his bag upon his back, and began the journey towards his apartment on foot. He silently thanked his parents for allowing him to live in an apartment near school, for it did cost quite an amount of money.

Jack finally made it outside the school's gate. He stopped to look at the skies, which were slowly turning a shade of dark grey. His hands reached for the sides of his backpack, to check if he had brought an umbrella with him.

"Damn. If it rains, I'm screwed, and I don't want to get sick just from forgetting to bring my umbrella", Jack angrily muttered to the air as he continued walking towards his apartment.

Although Jack always walked to his apartment from school every single day, the distance was still quite far. It takes him around twenty minutes to reach his apartment, and the graying skies were of no help to him at all. Raindrops slowly started to pour from the skies. They looked like tears sliding down from the dark and cloudy skies. Jack had to carry his bag on his chest in order to cover it from the rain so that his books, and most especially his notebook, would not get wet. Water from the rain dropped from the strands of Jack's hair as he hurriedly walked.

Suddenly, a shadow hovered above Jack's head. Startled, he quickly turned, and his head bumped into something. He quickly learned that it was not a something, but rather a someone. A someone he had really not expected to be there.

It was the teacher. Miss Kate Summers. His History teacher. He just remained standing there, looking at her silently. He could not find it in him to utter words, to even say his thanks to her for shielding him from the rain with her umbrella. He was embarrassed.

"Well? Are you just going to stand here? Or have you called a cab? The rain won't stop, even if you plan to sing to it, you know", the small, pale teacher said to Jack. She was holding up her umbrella higher than the usual, since Jack was taller.

"U-um no, miss. I'm sorry to cause you all this trouble, I left my umbrella...somewhere at home...", Jack trailed off as both him and his teacher started walking towards a shed in which people would wait for cabs. It was not the direction towards his apartment anymore, but of course, he was still thankful.

For a lot of things. First, for the chance to be with his teacher. Second, for the fact that she actually bothered helping him in the rain. He began of thinking of ways to be able to repay this act of kindness. At the same time, while he was thinking, he immediately began to regret not starting a conversation with the person he admired. And so, he tried.

"Miss, um, thanks again for, uh, this. I'll make sure to repay the favor..." Though Jack was talking to Miss Summers,, he still could not bring himself to look into her eyes.

"You already said thanks twice. Next time, you'd better bring your umbrella. You're already all grown up. Anyways, I will be off now."

He tried to say something, to tell her to wait, but his mouth was frozen. Jack's gaze remained fixed on his teacher as she walked further and further. His eyes still traced her as her figure dissolved into a shadow, now too far away to see. He sat on the benches of the shed, trying to think of words to say, but nothing came to mind. He closed his eyes and leaned on the cold, metal pole of the waiting shed, and remained silent.