you were roaming around the hallways in silence, skipping class and hoping to yourself that no one finds you. it’s rather quiet, peaceful, until you hear someone… crying. it sounds close by. your first instinct is to turn and run into the nearest room; the janitor’s closet.

inside is a seated boy, his head down so that all you can see is his blue chullo and the yellow puffball ontop, a tuft of black hair sticking out from over his arms, face in his knees.

craig: “get out…”