We All Fall Down

• Mikayla Wills, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2013

The world was a bright that was sharp, piercing. A finely-honed cruelty. The air was filled with the remnants of mockery. Empty laughter, empty lives.
The boy’s fights were clenched while his face retained its expression of indifference. Indifference cracked with need. A need for life to be more than what it was. A desperate need if ever there was. Head held high, eyes downcast. Tongue held in shame. His silence made stronger by his grief. Shoulders slumped with a weight not his to bear. But bear he did. His footsteps set the steady thrum of his heart.
The well loomed as he drew near. His lips quirked ever so slightly, if only for a moment. Subtle. The ghost of an expression he would have once had before he had transformed into no more than a ghost himself. A child lost to his own childhood. His knees hit the ground with a resounding thud, having gone weak with relief. His intake of breath was sharp.
Enough, enough, enough.
A word with the capacity to be filled with more human emotion than any other. A word, a chant, a lifestyle. His forehead pressed to the damp rock lip of the well. Listening intently, to the water in case it become anything other than still.
And he remained this way until the sun broke through the snow and the wind carried him away. Men seldom won victory against monsters. Neither could this boy beat his.