Suddenly Seymour

Jane was the definition of bad. She parties more than she comes to school. She drinks more alcohol than water. Her many boyfriends come and go like rain. She was cool, yet no one wanted to be her. She wasn’t mean or cruel, she was feared. She ruled the school.

Seymour did not rule the school. He was a nerd. He spent more time at school than with the few friends he had. He’s never drank. He has never had a girlfriend. He was not cool, and like Jane, no one wanted to be him. He wasn’t popular or cool, he was nobody.

Jane’s parents were never there for her. Her middle school graduation. Her championship soccer game. Her first day of high school. Every birthday since she was ten, they never showed up. She never knew where they were. They just always seemed to forget her. She had no siblings, no one to steal affection from her. It was just her. Alone. It broke her, the constant isolation. She had no one, no one who cared, no one to love, and no one to love her. She sat in her room and cried every night, and no one heard.


It was Saturday night. Seymour was walking briskly down a dark sidewalk. He was in the scary part of town, a place where people like Seymour do not belong. He picked up his pace to a jog when he heard a shout. His route home lead him closer and closer to the yells of pain. His heart was beating out of his chest. He ran until he got to the house where they noise was coming from. A normal person would keep running faster, but Seymour stopped. He realized the sound was crying. It wasn’t a happy cry, a painful cry or a your-favorite-TV-show-just-ended cry. He knew this cry; he knew all too well. It was a cry reserved for just pure sadness. It wasn’t because your dog died or your boyfriend dumped you sad. It was a complete loss of hope sad. The type of sad that eats away at you achingly slow. Seymour would know that cry anywhere.

Then, he did something crazy. He sprinted up the rusty building stairs. He followed the cries to apartment number 7. He put his shaking hand on the doorknob. He turned it slowly, and peeked his head around the door. When Seymour looked inside, all he could do was stand there. His eyes grew as big as the sun. He never thought he would see Jane, the person he feared most, sitting in a puddle of tears, so vulnerable. Seymour was already having a daring sort of day, so he mustered up all the courage he had and asked: Are you ok?

Jane looked up to see a strangely familiar face. She had that feeling, the I should know who this is but I don’t and I feel horrible because they seem to know me feeling. Just as she was about to respond, the boy stuttered I’m sorry, this is weird. I should go. I-I’m sorry. He started to shuffle out the door when Jane accidentally shouted what she was thinking: No! I mean-please don’t go. She sounded desperate. Jane never sounded desperate. She looked down, embarrassed, thinking he was gone. Suddenly, she felt an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into a hug. Jane looked up slowly, trying to hide her smile. He had stayed.

~ Hope D.