No One Ever Knows

They seem quite misfit.

 They walk down the street with a step that means they do not want to be talked to, or to be seen. They lost something important, and they keep their head low as if they are looking for it constantly, the hat on their head collecting the water and not allowing it to get on their face.

 Their laugh reminds them of one, the hat another, and even though they really don’t need glasses, they wear them anyways. It’s a reminder, everything is a reminder. A reminder that they will walk the street alone forever, as people they never knew about.  

 Their laughter, when it escaped, held traces of the past. Each chuckle carried echoes of those they had lost, and the glasses perched on their nose were more than just an accessory; they were a lens through which they viewed a world forever altered by tragedy. The names they adopted, a shifting mirage, were the ghosts that haunted their every step.

 

 People say their name is Adam, others say it’s Elyse, but no one really knows. They go by many names. Names of ones they lost. Was it Sean, or Edward? Bruce? James? Maybe Jane? Matt, even? No one knows. They just know they lost seven friends in one day, they stand on the street corner, and some have heard bits and pieces. No one knows the whole story, but they try to piece it together. But once they turn their back on them, they’re gone.

 No one knows where they live, where they come from, but they’re always there, always waiting. Maybe it was for their friends, maybe it was for death, no one knows.

No one ever knows.