December 8, 2010

I Always Wondered Who Used to Live Here

"I used to live in your house."
He's gazing at me over wire-framed glasses like he's 100 instead of 11.  He's nondescript.  He's normal.
"Really?" I say.
"Yeah...I lived there before you guys.  Weird, eh?"
I've often wondered about the little boys who came before us.  The little boys who were locked in the upstairs bedroom.  The little boys who tried to kick down the door to get out.  The little boys who played on the urine stained carpet.  Part of me wants to invite him over to see what a nice home we've made of his bad memories.
"Is there still blood on the stairs?" he asks.
I am at once horrified and fascinated.  "What?  No.  No blood."
"Oh," he's nodding, like he expected as much.  "That's where my brother broke his head open.  See ya!"  And he runs off across the school parking lot, awkwardly waving, laughing with friends and throwing dirty snow balls.
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4 comments:

  1. The innocence of kids is ridiculously calming.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Well that's kinda frightening...

    ReplyDelete
  3. Em, it never ceases to amaze me!

    ReplyDelete
  4. Hi there,

    I was reading through your blog, and I like it.... :)

    I would love it if you visited my blog, and if you follow me, I will follow you. I have a commentary on my blog right now, and would love you HONEST opinion with no worries...

    Jesse

    ReplyDelete

I love comments and I appreciate, consider and read each one. I welcome your thoughts, whether you're in agreement or not; however, this website is a happy place and I will remove any comment that I believe to be inappropriate, malicious or spam like.

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