What A day

The walk back felt longer. My ribs were starting to ache again, with every other step.

My brain kept replaying the image of her house. The peeling blue paint. The front step that looked like it would collapse if you looked at it wrong.

The fence was broken in one spot, just a couple of splintered boards hanging loose. The grass in the yard was overgrown, full of weeds.

And the windows were just… grimy. Like no one had washed them in years.

'Does she live there alone?'

A kid her age, in a place like that? The whole street felt quiet. Too quiet.

Where were her parents? The thought just sat there in my head.

Even with my parents overseas, my place was clean. They paid for everything. Someone was taking care of things.

But her? Her uniform was frayed. Her shoes were falling apart. It wasn't just a messy house. It was neglect.

'What am I supposed to do?' 

The answer was simple: nothing.