THE LOOK THROUGH THE WINDOW, short story

"What if I was smiling and running into your arms, would you see then, what I see now?" (Christopher Johnson McCandless, Into the wild)

1st chapter

"Oh, it was to be so jolly good! What a game! Such excitement they hadn't know in years. The children ran this way and that across the green lawns, shouting at each other, holding hands, flying in circles, climbing trees, laughting. Overhead the rockets flew, but the children played on. Such fun, such tremulous joy, such tumbling and heavy screaming..." - Jane stopped reading for a minute - "Kevin, are you listening to the story?"

Kevin could see everything from his window. How he liked to see people outside playing and walking, how he lives to dream about, perhaps, one day, there will be no strange people walking on the street, but he.

"Sorry Jane, I was a little distracted" - whispered Kevin - "Can you go on, please?"

"Listen Kevin, do you want to go for a walk? I know you always dream about being normal but you'll have to wait, you know the doctors are doing the best they can. Just believe in it."

"It's not that simple! You don't know how it is Jane! You don't know how difficult it is!"

Kevin was about to cry, he was very sensitive since that car accident that killed his parents and made him incapacitated to walk. He can't bear the fact that, maybe, he'll never walk again.

"Can you just leave, please?" - murmured Kevin

Jane was his best friend, she met him six years ago, when they were nine years old, at the park, while they were playing hide and seek. She has beautiful blonde hair and deep brown eyes, the type of girl every boy wishes for. But most importantly, she was a girl with a very big heart. When Kevin had the accident and went to hospital, she visited him every single day and at the weekends, she used to fall asleep there. They became very close then.

"Sure" - answered Jane - "call me as soon as you need me, I'll miss you"

"I'll miss you too"

As soon as she left, he crept himself to get a piece of a paper and a pen. He was a beautiful writer. He could write all the type of stories, romances, scripts...He was a "words-boy", but he never share that with anybody. He was a little bit shy and though that things like that were meant not to be read.

He used to look through the window, sitting in his bed, and write his thoughts. He used to dream about another reality, where he had legs that can run and walk, like every boy his age. But he has no success in making his dreams come true. He know what he wants but he doesn't know how to turn it real.