Missing Boy.

Missing Boy
I’ve been looking for this kid. Maybe you can help me find him. He went missing over four years ago. He was a nice boy.

The sort of boy who could walk up to a stranger and introduce himself without a second thought.

He was an avid reader. He’d read ahead in class and brag about how quickly he could finish young adult novels. He couldn’t stand to hear his classmates read through plays. They never made any attempt to capture the voices of the characters that they read for. The boy raised his hand each time a teacher asked for a volunteer to read. It was his duty to right the wrongs his classmates were doing to classic literature.

He was a hard worker. For years he’d spend his days working on silly comics for an audience of two or three. He even tried to teach a friend the same. The friend didn’t learn well, but the boy still took the time to try and teach him.

He’d spend just as much time creating and editing music videos for his favorite television shows. He didn’t need appreciation, not that he ever got it. he motivated himself.

He had big dreams. He had this crazy idea that the world could be a better place under a great leader. He wanted to be president. He thought that he had all the solutions.

He was the sort of boy who wanted to make his parents proud. He would look forward to Mother and Father’s day. He’d save his quarters for weeks on end until he had enough to purchase them singing cards. He appreciated their love for him even when it was tough love.

He was religious. He went to church with his father and mother. He was even a part of the Sunday School. He prayed every night for his parents and his own brother. He wanted to give them protection.

He wasn’t the bravest boy. A physical threat could shut him down quick. He never did anything risky. He played it safe like he was taught by his parents.

A silly sort of guy. He didn’t back down from proclaiming his continuing love for Power Rangers, well into his late teens. He’d speak out of turn in class, just to annoy everyone. He’d talk too much and wait for people to tell him to shut up. He’d play tricks on his friends that would backfire on him. That was his favorite part, his comeuppance.

He didn’t know what you’re not supposed to post online and should you should. He’d post all his problems for everyone to see. From his day-to-day feelings on his high school crush to how he felt when his parents didn’t treat him the best. He trusted people, and his friends even more.

A naive little thing. Despite consistent rejection, he’d wake up each day and say “Today is the day that she’ll like me for me. I just have to try harder. I can’t give up and move on. This means too much to me.”

He never forgot names. He didn’t forget faces. He knew all of his friend’s birthdays. He knew all their numbers by heart.

His face was silky-smooth like a baby’s bottle. He couldn’t grow a facial hair even after trying some home remedies. The hair on the top of his head was short. It was consistently cut every two weeks.

He’d give a ten dollar tip for a twelve dollar haircut. He loved tipping. It was his favorite part of getting his haircut.

He was a good kid. That’s the best way to describe him.

I look in the mirror everyday and I wonder where that boy went. I need him here more than I ever thought I would. I’m hoping to one day wake up and see him right there, staring back at me in the mirror.

He’ll be donning his black and gold hooded sweat shirt even though it’s the middle of spring. He’ll have his big goofy smile.

But that won’t happen.

The boy is gone and he’s never coming back.

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