Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Look For The Boy with a Broken Smile
12-21-2005
Weeks went on.Winter had approached quickly and I was still keeping all my feelings inside.
Almost every day after school,Patrick and I would go to the park and do homework. Of course he would find a million and one things to take pictures of and I watched and smiled as he did.
I appreciated this time with him because I didn't get to see Patrick much at school,besides during English and Science, because he had been moved into mostly advanced classes.I looked at this as a good thing and a bad thing. I had been losing friends for hanging out with him. Like I said before most of my friends only gave people a second look if if they were wearing Hollister. They wanted an explanation of why I was suddenly canceling all my plans with them. Truth is I would rather be with Patrick because he knows the way I feel.
One winter afternoon,the day school let out for Christmas break,I was walking home from school counting the number of my steps to take my mind off the bitter wind attacked my face. Patrick's friend Pete told me that Patrick had gone home early because he wasn't feeling good.As I neared my house,I saw a figure sitting on Patrick's front porch.As I got even closer, I saw Patrick,his head buried in his arms,huddled up on the steps. Shredded pieces of paper littered the glistening snow in his front yard,and when I looked up close, I saw that they were pictures. And next to Patrick was his camera,shattered, the film in a tangle.
I dropped my messenger bag in his driveway and ran to him.
"PATRICK!Patrick what happened?!"
He lifted his head.Tears filled his eyes and slid down the lens' of his glasses. Under his right eye was a cut that was bleeding badly.
I was confused, and felt pain for him. Who could have done this?
He tried to say something,but another sob escaped him and he buried his head again. I took off my scarf and wiped the blood and tears from his face. I really tried to calm him down, but I soon realized he just needed me to be there.As a friend. I wrapped my arms around him and he buried his head in my shoulder. I really did feel awful. I wanted to kiss him and tell him everything would be okay.
"Come on Patrick, we should get you inside you're freezing." ,I said,pushing on the door handle of his house.It was locked.
I sighed, silently cursing his deadbeat dad.
"Let's go to my house."
I closed the door to my house behind us.I then got Patrick a wet towel to wipe his face off with and handed it to him.
"Do you want some hot chocolate?" I asked him while he wiped off the blood.
He nodded.
We sat on the couch in the living room,sipping our hot chocolate and watching the snow fall outside.Patrick seemed to have calmed down,so after a long stretch of silence,I decided to ask him. "Patrick...can you tell me what happened now?"
He cleared his throat.
"My dad...",he began.
I thought silently again /Of course it was his dad...that lazy alcoholic bastard.../I could already feel fury building up.
"I had left school early...I figured I'd go home and take a few pictures while my dad was gone. He hates that I like to take pictures. He says I should be doing things that normal boys my age do,like playing football.Anyways he's usually gone by that time,out to the bar,so I was sitting on the steps looking through my photo album when he came out of the house. I had no idea he was home..he...he saw all my pictures and he got really mad. I told him I wasn't gonna do any more photography,but why should I have to give up what I love to do for him?!"His eyes started to fill up with tears again.
"Shhh."I comforted him, taking his hand.
He wiped the tears away with his sleeve.
"He ripped up all of my pictures.All of my hard work.He smashed my camera, too. My mom gave me that camera before she died. I cussed at him and he punched me in the face...that's how I got the cut. Then he left for the bar."
His eyes wandered off, and he ran his fingers over the open wound,flinching.
"Patrick,I'm so sorry.I can't even imagine what-"
"Don't be sorry.I managed to save one picture."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the picture of me he had taken on accident,from the first week we had met first.
I looked happy, happier than I had looked in a long time in that photo.
"You're all I have left, Allie."
Weeks went on.Winter had approached quickly and I was still keeping all my feelings inside.
Almost every day after school,Patrick and I would go to the park and do homework. Of course he would find a million and one things to take pictures of and I watched and smiled as he did.
I appreciated this time with him because I didn't get to see Patrick much at school,besides during English and Science, because he had been moved into mostly advanced classes.I looked at this as a good thing and a bad thing. I had been losing friends for hanging out with him. Like I said before most of my friends only gave people a second look if if they were wearing Hollister. They wanted an explanation of why I was suddenly canceling all my plans with them. Truth is I would rather be with Patrick because he knows the way I feel.
One winter afternoon,the day school let out for Christmas break,I was walking home from school counting the number of my steps to take my mind off the bitter wind attacked my face. Patrick's friend Pete told me that Patrick had gone home early because he wasn't feeling good.As I neared my house,I saw a figure sitting on Patrick's front porch.As I got even closer, I saw Patrick,his head buried in his arms,huddled up on the steps. Shredded pieces of paper littered the glistening snow in his front yard,and when I looked up close, I saw that they were pictures. And next to Patrick was his camera,shattered, the film in a tangle.
I dropped my messenger bag in his driveway and ran to him.
"PATRICK!Patrick what happened?!"
He lifted his head.Tears filled his eyes and slid down the lens' of his glasses. Under his right eye was a cut that was bleeding badly.
I was confused, and felt pain for him. Who could have done this?
He tried to say something,but another sob escaped him and he buried his head again. I took off my scarf and wiped the blood and tears from his face. I really tried to calm him down, but I soon realized he just needed me to be there.As a friend. I wrapped my arms around him and he buried his head in my shoulder. I really did feel awful. I wanted to kiss him and tell him everything would be okay.
"Come on Patrick, we should get you inside you're freezing." ,I said,pushing on the door handle of his house.It was locked.
I sighed, silently cursing his deadbeat dad.
"Let's go to my house."
I closed the door to my house behind us.I then got Patrick a wet towel to wipe his face off with and handed it to him.
"Do you want some hot chocolate?" I asked him while he wiped off the blood.
He nodded.
We sat on the couch in the living room,sipping our hot chocolate and watching the snow fall outside.Patrick seemed to have calmed down,so after a long stretch of silence,I decided to ask him. "Patrick...can you tell me what happened now?"
He cleared his throat.
"My dad...",he began.
I thought silently again /Of course it was his dad...that lazy alcoholic bastard.../I could already feel fury building up.
"I had left school early...I figured I'd go home and take a few pictures while my dad was gone. He hates that I like to take pictures. He says I should be doing things that normal boys my age do,like playing football.Anyways he's usually gone by that time,out to the bar,so I was sitting on the steps looking through my photo album when he came out of the house. I had no idea he was home..he...he saw all my pictures and he got really mad. I told him I wasn't gonna do any more photography,but why should I have to give up what I love to do for him?!"His eyes started to fill up with tears again.
"Shhh."I comforted him, taking his hand.
He wiped the tears away with his sleeve.
"He ripped up all of my pictures.All of my hard work.He smashed my camera, too. My mom gave me that camera before she died. I cussed at him and he punched me in the face...that's how I got the cut. Then he left for the bar."
His eyes wandered off, and he ran his fingers over the open wound,flinching.
"Patrick,I'm so sorry.I can't even imagine what-"
"Don't be sorry.I managed to save one picture."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the picture of me he had taken on accident,from the first week we had met first.
I looked happy, happier than I had looked in a long time in that photo.
"You're all I have left, Allie."
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