conversation

Sunny's curiosity got the better of him, and he asked, "Who did you come to visit?" He looked around the church, noticing the various refugees and aid workers milling about.

Catherine looked around for a while, her eyes scanning the surrounding as if searching for something or someone. She sighed, a look of resignation washing over her face. "I came to drop off medical treatments," she said, her voice matter-of-fact. "That's what I do. I'm a medical aid worker. That's how I contribute to the war effort."

She turned to Sunny, her eyes sparkling with interest. "What about you?" she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity. "What brings you here? Young boys like you don't always come around to places like this."

Sunny shrugged, feeling a bit self-conscious under her gaze. "I came with my mom," he replied, trying to sound nonchalant. "She's one of the volunteers here. But to be honest, I'd rather be home. I don't really like it here. It's too... sad."

Catherine's expression softened, and she nodded understandingly. "I know what you mean," she said. "It can be overwhelming, seeing so much suffering and pain. But sometimes, it's the small acts of kindness that can make a big difference. Your mom is doing important work here, and I'm sure she appreciates your support."

Sunny felt a pang of guilt, realizing that he hadn't been very supportive of his mom's efforts. He looked around the church, noticing the various aid workers and volunteers bustling about.

Sunny nodded his head, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over him. "I'm tired, really tired," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Catherine's ears perked up, and she leaned in closer to him. "What did you say?" she asked, her voice soft and concerned.

Sunny realized that he had spoken out loud, and he shook his head, feeling a flush rise to his cheeks. "It's just a thought I let loose, nothing more," he said, trying to brush it off.

But Catherine didn't let it go. She looked at him for some time, her eyes searching his face for answers. Sunny felt like she could see right through him, like she knew exactly what he was thinking.

Finally, she asked, "What do you do?"

Sunny replied absent-mindedly, his mind still preoccupied with his own thoughts. "I'm a soldier," he said, his voice flat and unemotional.

Catherine's expression changed, and she looked at him with a newfound understanding. "I see," she said, her voice soft and gentle. "It can be tough, what you're going through. The war, the fighting... it takes a toll on you."

Sunny nodded, feeling a lump form in his throat. No one had ever really understood what he was going through, what it was like to be a soldier. But Catherine seemed to get it, seemed to understand the weight that he carried on his shoulders.

He looked at her, really looked at her, and saw something in her eyes that gave him pause. It was a deep empathy, a sense of compassion that seemed to radiate from her very being.

Sunny shook the thought out of his mind and looked forward instead, his eyes fixed on some point in front of him. The silence between them grew louder, more oppressive, as the seconds ticked by. Sunny couldn't wait to get home, to escape the awkwardness that seemed to be building between them.

But then, Catherine broke the silence, her voice cutting through the stillness like a knife. "What happened with your face?" she asked, her eyes fixed on the mark on his cheek. "I mean, the mark on your face."

Sunny's instincts told him to be evasive, to come up with some plausible explanation that wouldn't arouse her suspicion. He didn't feel like going into the whole story, didn't feel like reliving the memories that were still too fresh, too painful.

So he lied. "I fell from a tree," he said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Catherine's eyebrows shot up, her expression skeptical. "Uhh, from a tree?" she repeated, her voice dripping with incredulity. "What were you doing there?"

Sunny knew he had lied, and he knew he had to come up with a convincing explanation to back up his story. He didn't feel like telling her the truth, didn't feel like revealing the fact that he had been in a brutal fight.

So he came up with another lie, one that sounded more plausible, more innocent. "I went to pluck some fruits," he said, trying to sound casual.

Catherine's expression didn't change, but Sunny could sense a flicker of doubt in her eyes. She didn't believe him, not entirely. But she didn't press the issue, didn't ask him any more questions. Instead, she just nodded.

Then suddenly, a familiar voice broke the silence. "Sunny, there you are!" It was his mom, and Sunny turned his head to look at her. She was smiling, her eyes scanning the room as if searching for someone.

"Are you through with them?" Sunny asked, nodding towards the refugees his mom had been helping.

"Yes," she replied, "I didn't do much though." She sounded a bit disappointed, as if she had wanted to do more.

Then, noticing the girl standing behind Sunny, she smiled quickly and asked, "And who's this lady behind you?"

Sunny turned to Catherine, who was watching the exchange with interest. "This is Catherine, my friend that I just met," Sunny said, trying to sound casual.

Catherine smiled and extended her hand, and Sunny's mom shook it warmly. "Nice to meet you, Catherine," she said. "I'm Sunny's mom."

Catherine smiled back, her eyes sparkling with friendliness. "Nice to meet you too," she said. "Sunny and I were just getting acquainted."

Sunny's mom smiled, her eyes darting back and forth between Sunny and Catherine. "Well, I'm glad to see Sunny making new friends," she said. "We should get going soon, though. It's getting late."

Sunny nodded, feeling a pang of relief. He was glad to be leaving, glad to be getting out of the awkward situation.