{ this is part 1 of when they’re younger >.< }

there you were, staring out your bedrooms window boredly, but staring specifically at the abandoned house among the fancy mansions built on the street that you lived on. then, there was movement. a young boy, around the same age as you popped out of one of the boarded up windows, sneaking out and over to one of the garbage bins out the front. he opened it up, rummaging around until he found some food that was half eaten and probably going stale. you stared curiously, but he didn’t notice you. the next day after you came back from school, you made up a basket of necessities for him; food, blankets, water, and a jumper you stole from your dads closet. you put down the basket out the window you saw him exit, knocking a few times, then quickly dashing away to behind a tree. your heart was beating fast as you waited for him to come out to collect it, checking a few times before hiding back behind the tree. then he came out as soon as you checked if he came out— he saw you, but didn’t say anything. silently appreciating what you got him. he took it in, and cried for a little while over your kindness. little did you know, you saved his life that night. he planned on killing himself in that house so no one would know he was gone, because, realistically, who was going to check an already abandoned old warehouse? his parents didn’t care, his mother kicked him out. a non-caring mother and an abusive father. but you cared, thats what stopped him.

the next day, you waited at a busstop, and the guy you helped the day before was with you. just the two of you. you waited at a busstop for your schools bus together, you realised.

“thank you.” he muttered, his voice full of appreciation and gratitude.

“what are you talking about?” you replied, acting clueless, like you didn’t know what he was talking about— but you did, and he did too. he internally thanked you for that.

and thats how your friendship started.