FicWad

Seven year old Mikey looked in awe at the young children laughing, playing, and just, well, being happy. Mikey wished he could be like that. The old, rusty swing creaked and groaned under his weight. Mikey was going through a chubby stage, as his mother put it. She had to say that, he thought to himself bitterly. She was his mother; after all, she was inclined to be as nice to him as possible, to shield him from the truth. Mikey was a very intelligent seven year old, though, he knew about how the grown-ups lied and were very cruel to each other. Yes, Mikey new. In his seven years, he had been alone most of the time. The aloneness left him time to ponder his very existence. So yes, I guess you could say that Mikey understood more than adults. Mikey was also a very sad child. Almost depressed... His big brother, Gerard, told him that what Mikey was going through was normal for teenagers, but Mikey was experiencing this thing (Gerard had called it "teen angst") very soon due to his fantastic intelligence. Mikey was very odd, very tall for his age. Lanky. He had glasses too. A stereo-typical nerd. Mikey didn't care what other people thought of him, though. Mikey never wanted to be popular. Why would he want to be stupid, fake, and mean?
A little red-headed girl skipped innocently over to Mikey. Rose-Mary. Mikey's heart melted on the spot. Rose-Mary was so... Perfect, special, angel-like. Mikey thought that he might love her.
"Hi Mikey," she said in her cute little voice.
"Hi Rose-Mary," Mikey greeted her in a soft voice, as if any other tone would break her angel wings. She smiled at him ever-so-innocently and pumped her legs in hopes of soaring high on the swing. Rose-Mary did not succeed. She always had trouble swinging by herself.
Rose-Mary frowned, "Mikey, could you help me?" Mikey thought his heart stopped. Rose-Mary wanted him to push her on the swing. He would be touching her back. He would have control over her. He would have to be careful not to accidentally push her too hard. Mikey didn't want to hurt Rose-Mary. Mikey stood and started towards her swing, but he was too late. Benjamin, the skinnier, more attractive boy in Mikey’s grade had already gotten behind Rose-Mary's swing and started pushing her. Rose-Mary frowned slightly, but didn’t give much else as to what she thought of this. Mikey thought that he might cry.
"When you were here before, couldn't look you in the eye. You're just like an angel, your skin makes me cry. You float like a feather, in a beautiful world. I wish I was special... You're so fuckin' special."