“Hello, stranger”. I said as I approached the boy sitting on top of the cold brick stairs. He turned around to face me, the sound of my voice must have been enough to recognize me, but he still looked at me with unsure eyes. Or so he did for a second, before hiding his feelings and going back to his impassive expression. He turned back around and answered me with the cigarette still between his teeth.
“You didn’t tell me you were coming today”.
I joined him on the steps. It was freezing cold, but he didn’t seem bothered by it, he must have been sitting there for a while. He wore the same old oversized jacket over a pair of black jeans. A bunch of flowers sat beside him, crumbling under the heavy paper.
“If I did, I wouldn’t have been able to find you here. I’ve been meaning to talk to you”.

boy and sad image boy, sad, and smoke image

He finished his cigarette, tossed it to the ground and lit another one right after. I waited for an answer, but he didn’t reply.
“You know, you shouldn’t smoke that much. You are too young to-”
“To what? To die?”. He looked at me for the first time, a death glare meant to warn me to stay out of his business. I looked away ashamed, knowing I had made a mistake.
“I didn’t mean it like that. She-”
“I know you didn’t”. He cut me again reinforcing the idea that I should not talk about her.
I looked at him without really knowing what to say. It had been a while since we last spoke, after weeks of ignoring my calls I had decided to confront him in person. From the top of the stairs we could see the whole cemetery, dozens of tombstones aligned making a perfect square around the big oak tree that rose in the middle.
“You are not my teacher anymore. You don’t need to worry about me”. He said in a flat but firm voice.
“You are going to have to move on eventually”. I said in a last attempt to get to him. He was either going to accept it calmly or get angry at me. He did neither and I knew that was somehow worse. Indifference hurt more that anger. It took him so long to answer that I thought he wouldn’t speak again.

Abusive image graveyard, cemetery, and mist image

“I know”. He said, and he lay on the grass with his head over his hands, his cigarette only seconds away from burning him. “You can leave now”.
I left and took a last look behind me, waiting to see his deep blue eyes crying at me, finally asking for my help, showing everything they’d been hiding for so long. But he didn’t move, his chest went up and down following the tranquil rhythm of his breath and it stopped surprised for a second when I spoke again. “You should leave. It’s going to rain soon”. I said and left without looking back.

Feel free to read my other articles:

If you've been here a while you may have noticed that this article matches this one:

You can consider it a second part or something.

Important note regarding some of the tags:
If you know someone who has emotional stress or suffers from an eating disorder, self-harm or suicidal thoughts, keep in mind that there is help available waiting for you.
Please click here to learn more about confidential psychological counseling and a list of services that could be of help: https://weheartit.com/help/prevention-resources.