Journal 2

David Colon

Creative Writing

Professor Miller

1/31/18

He got on the bus with the most revolting pair of glasses. They had these large, bulbous lenses encompassed in a boxy frame. They were too big for his head, partly because he hadn’t grown into them yet. Give it a few years and they’d probably be slightly less revolting. He was adamant about wearing his glasses.

With each step down the aisle, the glasses would slide down the boy’s nose to which he’d drop everything to save them from crashing to the floor. He didn’t care what he broke, dirtied, or lost in his attempt to save those glasses. He’d do anything. He was adamant about wearing them.

His classmates would laugh at him. “Look at Michael,” they sneered.

“What a loser!”

“You look like an idiot”

“Go sit in the back! And stop wasting our time”

“Do you ever take those things off?”

The boy moved forward.

One of the boy’s classmate stuck out his leg. “Hey Michael, watch your step!”

The boy’s leg hooked around his classmate’s. Gravity did the rest. He managed to cover his eyes on the way down, but not the rest of his body. His face was on fire.

Laughter. “Look at him,” his classmate yelled. “Come on Michael, GET UP!”

The boy’s hands shot up, covering his face. His hands traced the bulbous lenses, the boxy frame. No cracks. They were safe. His body shivered, but like a dog, the boy obeyed his classmate and ran to find a seat.

“Michael, I’m going to check up on you in a couple minutes, you better find a place to hide!” his classmate roared.

He ended up finding a seat next to a girl.

She smiled at the boy. “Don’t worry about them, they’re the idiots”

The boy looked out the window, clutching the sides of his glasses.

“Hey Michael, why do you care about those glasses so much?” the girl asked.

“I don’t know-”

“Yes you do”

“Well they help me see.”

“WELL DUH, of course. That’s what glasses do. I’m asking why you care so much about those glasses?”

“Well I haven’t been asked that question before. They were my dad’s before-”

It was the boy’s classmate. “BEFORE WHAT, MICHAEL?” he screamed.

The boy turned around, staring back out the window.

“Michael, don’t you ignore me, come here!” The boy’s classmate swung him around. The boy struggled but his classmate was stronger. His classmate grabbed him by his neck. The boy’s body twisted and convulsed, trying to free himself from the grip. The boy grabbed his classmates fingers, trying to pry himself loose, but his glasses were beginning to fall.

“Please, just let me put my glasses down,” the boy pleaded.

The boy’s classmate swiped the glasses off of the boy’s head. “What, these glasses?”

“Give them back! Please just give them back. I’m begging you.”

Tears began to fill the boy’s eyes, but that wasn’t enough to sway his classmate. “What, Michael, you going to cry? What if I snapped-”

“No please don’t,” the boy sobbed. “I need them to see! I need them don’t please. Please my dad-”

Crack. His classmate stepped back. The girl drew back her fist.

“Goddamnit, my eye, why the hell did you hit me?” he whimpered.

“Go back over there and leave him alone.”

His classmate backed away. “This isn’t over.”

She picked up his glasses. “They were your dad’s?”