Dead Eyed Girls

His eyes, normally soft and deep were like two black beads fixed into his face, gazing off somewhere behind me. His hair was untouched by the wind. He sat there lit up by the orange glow of a street lamp. I shivered and my legs shook uncontrollably. I had started to cry long before. All you could hear were my sobs within the long silences. His anger, though not unexpected, was unbearable. But I forget, he is not a child as I was when I was in his shoes. He has a stunning sense of self. Resiliant self-respect. And I'm just pathetic. "Well, I hope you grow a backbone one day and learn to stick with your decisions." And then he said "See ya" and walked back down the pathway leading to his house. I waited a moment, then followed in the direction he had gone. I looked up at the stars and prayed to God that he would be fine and asked to be forgiven.