Story 6: To Each Their Own Skin

They pass by, together yet all apart. Tied down by the same things and yet so vastly different. They all have their own stories, they all have something to hide behind the picturesque impressions that they might try to convey to the world with painstaking effort.

A boy who wears nothing but dark coloured clothing, silently slinks by every morning, his eyes glazed over, his mind evidently millions of miles away. His hair falls over his unblinking gaze and almost no emotion passes on his smooth face. One would never know about the amazing things his fingers could do when placed on the ivory keys of a piano, or clasped together around a paintbrush. One could never guess about the tiny crisscrossing scars on his wrists or the memories embedded upon his heart. His love for his brother, his cat, his family. The way he treats his friends. One could never guess understand why he never smiles and why his eyes always glow a brilliant grey.

A girl with short dirty blonde hair floats by every afternoon, her head in the clouds. She wears a uniform most times, for she evidently studies hard and spends most of her day in school. But could one tell just by looking at her what an marvelous writer hides behind the book back she lugs everyday? Or that her heart forever holds a flitting butterfly of aspirations that causes her to dance, to dream big and bright? Her folders would show that she is an organized soul and needs everything in proper order. No one could guess that her heart aches for her homeland every single day and that sometimes she is scared of where life might take her. One would never know why her eyes laugh one moment and shut inside the next.

Clad, more often than not, in a grey hoodie, a boy struts by every evening, chatting away to one of his friends. His mop of light hair, recently dyed, defies gravity and gay laughter comes from his form every few minutes. But if one knew what to look for, they would see the nibbled on nails. One could not possible know that his laughter hits a hysterical note every time he is nervous or that he is a great listener. One would never even consider that he comes up with the most outlandish ideas or that he is a bit of a daredevil. One would not guess that he has more than one secret he likes to keep from the public, forever smiling, joking, laughing.

They all pass by, never crossing each other, and yet somehow all irreversibly tied together to each other, never meeting, but always there. All having so many stories to tell, but all hiding them under the persons that they've chosen to build.

All hiding so much just underneath their skins.