The Musings of a Teenage Something

Name

I don't know his name and I don't want to know his name. He sneaks into my room and helps with homework, always bringing me and apple to munch on. Tonight he reads me my homework for English, poetry which flows off his tongue with such beauty it's like a song. I lean back on my pillow taking notes where I need to, but before I know it, my apple is eaten and I've fallen asleep.

He takes my binder and notes from my lap, easing the loose pencil out of my hand and setting my homework on the floor. He throws away my apple and turns off my lamp. He leaves through the window, the same one he came in through, but leaves it cracked.

I wake in the night, shivering from the cold wind coming in from the window. I get up an dclose it, get back in bed and curl under my blankets.

I dream of him.

I don't even know his name.