Jimmy
The bell rang.
Not just in the school halls but in my head too. That sharp, sudden clang meant "life goes on," no matter who was tired, confused, or grieving.
I didn't look up. I didn't need to. The sound had become as routine as breathing. My classmates buzzed around like they always did after homeroom. Laughing. Teasing. Shouting across the rows. Someone had brought snacks. Another was folding love notes with a goofy smile. It was all noise, but to me, it was just the usual blur.
I kept my eyes on my notebook. The edge of my pencil was dull and soft against the paper, dragging over the lines as I copied formulas from the thick chemistry textbook beside me. It was the third time I'd rewritten the same equation. I wasn't studying I was hiding. Like I always did.
In a world where people fit together like puzzle pieces, I felt like the one corner piece from a different box. I wasn't particularly interesting or loud or likable. But I was quiet. And in quietness, I existed safely.
Until he came bursting in.
The classroom door slammed open so hard that even my pencil flinched.
I glanced up, just barely. It was one of the boys from the year below eyes wide, cheeks flushed, out of breath.
"Have you guys heard the news!?" he shouted, barely even stepping fully into the room.
People turned. Chairs scraped. The energy shifted instantly.
"What news?" someone asked.
I didn't want to listen. But something in me paused my hand froze over the notebook as if my body was waiting for something I didn't understand.
The boy's lips trembled. "Simon's parents," he said, almost choking on the words. "They died. In a car accident. Yesterday."
There was a stillness that dropped over the class like thick fog.
And then, something inside me cracked.
Snap.
I looked down. My pencil broken clean in half. My fingers were tight, like I'd been gripping it for dear life.
The name echoed in my head. Simon.
The boy in the next class. The one I always… noticed. The one who sat by the window. The one who smiled softly when he spoke, even though he barely ever did. The one who walked like he carried something fragile inside his chest.
My lips parted before I could think.
"Whose parents… died yesterday?" My voice was strange. Not loud, not soft just… not mine.
The boy blinked. "Simon. From Class 2B."
That was all I needed to hear.
The pencil dropped from my hand and rolled off the desk. I stood up slowly, legs suddenly weak. Every heartbeat echoed in my ears. Loud. Fast. Desperate.
I didn't even realize I was moving until someone asked, "Where are you going?"
I didn't answer.
I looked toward the hallway, already crowded with students. But none of them mattered. None of the chatter or laughter or curious glances stopped me.
I ran.
The hallway was in chaos.
I shoved past people I barely saw. Elbows brushed my sides. Someone called my name. Another curse as I nearly knocked them into a locker. But none of it reached me.
All I saw was the exit. All I felt was the urgency. I didn't know what I was doing or where I was going but something in me screamed go.
Find him.
I reached the main gate just as the security guards spotted me.
"Hey!" one of them barked. "Where do you think you're going?"
I didn't stop. I tried to dodge, to slip past them but they were faster. One grabbed my arm, the other blocked the path.
I didn't say a word. My lips wouldn't move. I just twisted in their grip, trying to slip through the tiniest gap. My pulse was loud, louder than anything they were saying.
Suddenly, a voice roared from behind.
"LET HIM GO!"
And then a blur.
Gabriel. My best friend. My only friend.
He lunged at the guard holding me, catching him off guard. The man stumbled back, cursing. Gabriel turned to me with fire in his eyes.
"RUN, JIMMY!"
And I did.
The street outside blurred.
My lungs were burning. My legs were screaming. But I ran. And ran.
A car honked loud and sharp and missed me by inches. I didn't stop. I couldn't.
My shoe slipped off. My sock tore. My knee hit gravel.
Pain. Pain everywhere. But I kept running.
Each breath felt like fire. My throat ached. But the only thing that mattered was getting there. To him.
I didn't know how I remembered where he lived. Maybe I didn't. Maybe my legs did. Maybe my heart did.
The house appeared like a memory, nestled between wild crops and a narrow path that led to the river. There were no gates, no cars, no fences. Just green, silence, and the house.
I stopped. Breathless. Covered in dust. My chest heaving.
There he was.
A woman stepped out of the house.
She was old, her back slightly bent, leaning on a wooden cane. Her face was wrinkled with the kind of sadness only time could create.
She looked at me, not surprised to see a muddy, out-of-breath boy standing in front of her house.
"Who are you looking for?" she asked gently.
I swallowed hard. "Simon."
Her expression changed. Softened.
She turned her head toward the riverside.
"He's there. Been there all morning. I've tried everything to cheer him up... but nothing worked." She looked at me closely. " Maybe you can bring my grandson back."
She turned slowly and went inside.
And I was alone.
Staring at the river.
And at him, sitting there all alone.