Anywhere, I would’ve followed you.

I reached my hand out in the darkness. My fingertips touched a cool, smooth surface. Lightly tapping on the surface, I realized I’m behind a glass wall.

Dim lights came on on the other side of the wall, bright enough I can just about make out what is there on the other side.

A little boy was getting beat up by his peers… I watched in horror as his peers left without saying a word. The boy stood up and slowly walked along the glass wall, oblivious to my presence. I walked with him, hand trailing along the cold glass wall. I watched him slowly grow up with bruises. I watched him as he get verbally attacked, I watched him as he enclosed himself in a box and became more quiet. I watched as he curled up in bed and cried himself to sleep.

I want to help him. Whenever he stops walking, I sit down on the other side of the glass wall, sympathetic thoughts filled my mind. I want to let him know I understood. I wanted to give him a hug, and tell him that I am here for him. I watched him for a long time, like a movie slowly unfolding through a one-way glass.

Today is Christmas Day. He is 22, has recently moved out to live by himself, and is the first time in his life to spend Christmas alone. He sat on his bed, with a hollow stare to whatever is outside his window. I sat here looking at him, until he looked over to my direction. Staring straight into me. I raised my hands and gently pressed them against the glass wall, trying to mentally comfort him while looking him in his sad eyes. As time passed, I slowly leaned forward and looked closer at him. I see tears in his eyes as he gradually stood up, and walked towards my direction without breaking eye contact. He stopped in front of me and looked down to me, then steadily sat down. I looked at him intently. He looked like he was searching for words, before opening his mouth,

“Say something, I’m giving up on you.”

I gasped inaudibly, as it slowly dawned on me that he might be trying to talk to me.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you.” I replied.

I watched him as tears fell from his sad face. He put his hands on the glass wall.

Up against my hands.


Thank you to Pentatonix and Jasmine Thompson’s versions of “Say Something”. Tonight I have cried to both versions and I really, really needed that. I also did feel a bit better after writing this.