Seven

I knew a boy, he kept to himself. He lived in something of a bubble, surrounded by protective people who whispered warnings about the people outside of his special zone. The funny thing is, I don’t think he ever asked “why?”

When you think about it, “why?” is one of the most fundamental questions that humans ask. We have a burning desire to know the workings of everything, the reasons. Yet this boy never asked it when they told him that it was dangerous outside, to be wary of what was out there. He simply nodded and accepted what he was told.

Perhaps this is the way to ignorance. To completely believe and never question what has been drilled into you. How many perspectives did this boy have? How many points of view did he see? Just the one that he had been given. It wasn’t even his own.

I watched him and I peered through the glass walls that separated him from everyone else. He caught my eye one day and looked at me strangely. I beckoned him forward, but he just walked away from me. I kept watching, waiting for the one day that he would press his face upon the glass and look. Really, really look at what was beyond his walls.

He came forward one day. Maybe it was his curiosity that could keep him away no longer. He moved slowly, gently and very gracefully. When he finally reached the glass, he pressed his hands against it. He looked at me. He really, really looked, the way I wanted him to.

I lifted my hands and placed them on the glass, in the same spot that he placed his.

I know a boy. I think I helped him open his eyes and see that there was something in life other than the circle he lived in. Even when my own eyes aren’t there, I hope he keeps his open and really, really looks with them.

This entry was written on July 30, 2007 by Charlotte Crown. It is about/includes mentions of life, love, people. You can leave a comment, or trackback from your own site.