Hello Everyone, I hope you enjoy this little one-shot. It is very sad and the result of a lot of introspection. Please Review.

Every day I came to school and sauntered into class. I sat in the corner surrounded by friends. I was happy, on a little cloud of contentment and security. My group was popular, but we were never cruel. We tried to include everyone. Everyone was welcome to partake in the safety of our friendship. We were kind and distant, lights that lit the way but offered no warmth. We were blind, blind to the fact that empty kindness can do far more harm than downright cruelty.

There was a boy in our group. We called him Finn. He wore his red hair in a ponytail and stuck to the outskirts of the group. He reminded me of a bird, the way he always looked like he was about to take off, so fragile but with so much life. He was quiet, and we thought he preferred it that way, so we let him alone, letting him sit with us at lunch and tag along with all of us when we went to the mall or the movies. We let him have a group of familiars, but no friends. What we didn't realize was what he really needed. He craved love, attention, things missing from his life with a single mom always working and an older sister in college. We never realized was how lonely he was.

One day I was walking in the woods behind our house, there was a an old abandoned greenhouse in the forest. It was overgrown, and beautiful, the remnants of an old Civil War era mansion that had been demolished for developments. I spent a lot of time painting in there.

I stepped in through the rusty iron door and saw Finn, as I recalled, he lived quite near me. He started violently when he saw me

and hurriedly put his hands behind his back. But the damage was done, I stared at him. He shrunk away as if my gaze was both fire

and ice. There was blood all over his arms and the scars of other wounds littering his arms. I looked up to meet his green eyes with

my brown ones. He had stayed silent through the whole thing, as if he wanted someone to discover him, but when I looked up into his

eyes my heart broke. I saw such despair and crushing loneliness that the weight of it all made me want to fall to my knees. I felt such

deep guilt, we who were supposed to be his friends had not even realized what he was doing to himself and how he felt. Finn's piercing

green eyes were dull and unfocused, not paying me any attention or heeding my sorrow. I let a single solitary tear fall from my eye,

and he came rushing back. With an almost starved look he brushed my tear away, letting it drip into the tangle of black hair over my

shoulder. Suddenly I embraced him, not speaking a word, for I knew that words were too light a thing to give in this situation. His thin

frame tensed like a taut rope and then relaxed slowly, sinking to the ground, me with him. We sat like that for an age as the birds sang

and the trees rustled with the ghosts of winds. His breathing evened as he drifted off to sleep. I slowly moved his head to my lap,

taking in the face I had never really paid attention to. His cheekbones were sharp, and he had pale delicate skin, his red hair was rich

and dark like cherry wood and pulled back into a small, messy ponytail. He truly look fragile, thin as a young tree and as insubstantial

as mist on a rainy day. I brushed aside a stray red hair as a light breeze whispered through the ruin. The dying sunlight of an evening

danced among the trees, and the last of the birds settled down for the night. We stayed, sitting, sleeping among the graveyard of a day,

content.