The Lost Boys

The

Harold Love had been a bright child. A excited child. A talkative child. Hyperactive, bouncing off the walls. Nothing. Could bring. Him down.

Dancing to idol group dances, rapping obnoxiously to too fast raps. Singing weirdly to ballads with high notes he'd never reach.

And he had his friends that swore they'd always stay by each other sides. And Harry, like any other 3rd grader, believed them.

Even as those friends drifted away to other people and his group tightened, he put his faith that he'd always have someone to lean back on.

Harold was a gullible kid.

When he was 6, his father told him that everyone he would meet, would leave him- just like his mother did.

And even at 6 years old, he knew that it was a righteous mission to prove his heartbroken dad wrong.

That if you throw hard enough, the Apple can fall far enough from the rotten old tree.

It didn't have to be like father, like son. Harry could be happy if he tried.

Harold was a foolish kid.

When Harry realized that he liked his close friend, he had been eager in telling her. He was so prepared to be rejected because, you can't win until you lose, right?

But Belle had said yes, and Harry was so, so happy. And he was grateful.

Belle was beautiful inside and out and he was lucky she had chosen him.

Harold was a trusting kid.

He did almost everything she wanted. His princess, his angel.

He let her go to parties even though he didn't like the scene. He let her go on those study dates with other guys, because she promised him.

She promised she'd be faithful. And he trusted her.

When she became distant, he got her presents, candies, took her on dates, gave more attention to her than he did himself.

When she began missing his calls, ignoring his texts, standing him up- he accepted her halfhearted apologies.

Because Belle is human and humans make mistakes.

And he steeled himself against the rage of insults and screaming when she snapped at him, taking all her anger out on her loyal boyfriend.

And he never ever raised a hand back when she tried fighting him, hurling out punches and even biting like a madwoman.

Because it was okay to be angry, to be sad.

Harry knew how emotions could wreck a person even at that young age. He saw it in his parents.

His mum while she was leaving. His dad after she left. He saw it in himself, constantly asking why he wasn't good enough for his mum to stay, for his dad to care, for his own girlfriend to love him back.

Harold was a empathetic child.

A blind child.

He didn't understand that Belle never loved him. He refused to see how she acted more intimate with other guys that she did with him.

Harry was following what he thought was best. He didn't want to end up like his dad, left in the dust. He didn't want to end up like his mum, leaving his family. He didn't want to be the kid he had been, the kid he was. 

He didn't want to be the mistake. The burden that separated the two people that were supposed to give him unconditional love back.

He wanted to find happiness. Even though he never quite was happy at all.

So he completely broke when he found out Belle had cheated on him since the beginning. That all those tears, all those insults, all those fights, was just her guilt personified.

That he spent 2 years of unreciprocated feelings. That he was just like his dad. So, Harry at 16 years old, ran away.

He ran away from his life. His lie.

And he found Oliver Harrison, balancing on a branch of a tree. Hands held out to his sides. Wobbling precariously on the end of what could be a fall that could take his life.

And Harry watched as that strange child turned and walked back to the trunk of the tree and held it and cried.

He watched when that small kid screamed into the cold air the thoughts that had been consuming him for days, "Why can't I be enough?"

He watched as another child almost floated from a higher part if the tree and landed on the same branch.

He watched as another child climbed up the tree to go on the branch.

And he heard the last kid say, "We will never be enough for them."

And the next child finished, "but we will be enough for each other."

And Harry felt more connection to these strangers than he ever felt before. And he felt his heart break even more.

And he felt his head smash against the concrete as he let the sorrow, and heartache drown him once again and sink him to the floor .

Jojo found him lying there. Jojo dragged him to that solitary tree. Jojo called the three tree children down to observe the new kid.

And they saw his tears and his scars and they knew.

They knew that if he were to stay and share his own story- it would be just another person added onto their boat of self misery.

But Oliver saw Harry and he saw potential. He saw that this kid, the newest one, he could have a smile that will light all of the rest of us up. He could have a broken heart, but it is pure. He could help repair them, like he has before.

Harold was a sad, sad child.

But now he had people to be sad with. And maybe together maybe they could be happy.

But is happiness possible for all of them?

"How can you be so bright, Harry? Teach me."

"You taught me yourself. What are you talking about?"

"Hehe, just kidding. We're okay right?"

"We're okay."