The Boy With The Sandwich

The boy sat there trying to save the mustard that was oozing out of his ham sandwich as he sat on the bench, swinging his legs. Janie pulled a napkin out of her lunchbag and handed it to him as she another bite of her chocolate pudding. He grabbed it and thanked his friend. He was happy, excited to be alive.

But only for a moment. Then it faded into dullness. And though Janie was in arm’s reach, he felt so alone. He seemed to lull out of existance for a moment, just losing himself in his mind. And to Janie, it just looked like he was blank. His legs had stopped swinging, and he was just holding his sandwich in silence. But he wasn’t blank. He was going through the maze of his mind, she just didn’t know it. Nobody did. Nobody understood what he thought, and he didn’t even want them to! What are the chances they would understand? Close to zero. And more importantly, would they keep the secrets and thoughts he locked in his head? They were all weighing him down, but no, no, he needed more. Thinking was like a drug to the boy. It made him feel good, but it weighed him down in the end. Maybe it felt so good to him because he felt more blank in real life than inside his head. Janie waved her hand in front of his eyes, and he snapped back to the world.