Seeds of Hate Read Online Free PDF Page B

a bad idea. Memories of everything I had collected about Javier over the years rolled about through my mind.
    I knew the following to be true—he was kind, he was loyal and he was hurting.
    Most people feared him because he was quiet. He rarely said anything unless he was talking to his friend with the dark curly hair. Izzy Goldstein. I had a hunch he was Jewish, but I never asked. I didn't care. He was nice, so in my mind, I had placed him as a part of the five acceptable life forms on our campus. You're probably thinking five? Yeah, I know. This school actually had some decent people. In junior high there were zero acceptable life forms. Zero in my entire life, not just school.
    I began to throw tiny rocks, my pathetic attempt to make noise without scaring him or breaking the awkward silence. By the twentieth rock, he finally looked up. His eyes were gentle at the core, but rimmed with loathing. I didn't expect him to talk, but his face spoke many words. I thought of introducing myself, but he probably didn't care. No one else did.
    He continued to stare at me. His skin was dark, so even though he had been crying, you couldn't really tell. He just looked heated, like he had been running. The tips of his black eyelashes were still wet and it made him appear rather pretty. Odd, but attractive, as if he had applied mascara. His nose was angled and sharp. Not soft like his cheeks or lips. It was interesting. I'd never seen him this close up. My observations were always done from a distance, synonymous with the rest of my life—viewed, enjoyed and suffered from a distance.
    "So how was your day?" I asked. The answer was obvious, but I figured I'd approach the whole random situation that I put myself in with a calm and simple question. As anticipated, he didn't reply, but he did look away. An answer without speaking.
    "Does this have anything to do with the first day of school?" I continued a bit heavier. I was leaving campus when I heard the screams coming from the bathroom. I ran and got the janitor before he left campus and had him open the door. That's when I watched Javier fall to the floor in a panic, covered with scraped knees and hands. He always wore dark jeans and black shirts, which lessened the severity of the blood, but it was dripping on the floor. It was bad.
    My question caused him to flinch. He pulled his knees to his chest and turned toward me.
    "What about?" he asked. His tone was serious, but curious.
    "Well, I'm assuming that whatever made you come over here today is more than likely related to the minor incident with you and the locked bathroom," I replied.
    I didn't want to push. If he wanted to talk he would, not that I really wanted him to, but he obviously needed something or someone. The guy was a mess and I was a sucker for hopeless individuals. Do unto others sort of deal. Just because the world was mean to me didn't mean I had to be mean to the world.
    His legs relaxed and his head fell back against the wall. School had officially ended and the sky was starting to fade. Fall would be here soon. I turned to look at him again, straight into his eyes, but they were closed. His lips moved against the cool air, but I couldn't hear a single word.
    The movements were repetitious and held a pattern. Maybe he was crazy. I continued to stare as his words grew in sound. They started as a whimper and morphed into a scream.
    "I want to leave. I want to leave. I WANT TO LEAVE. I WANT TO LEAVE!"
    I leaned away from him, afraid he might lurch or need some sort of physical outlet. Females might be unpredictable with their emotions, but males were unpredictable physically. He held still though, until he uttered those words one last time. And then he opened his eyes.
    "Are you okay?" I asked.
    "No," he replied.
    "Can I do anything?" I pulled my cheek to the side and started fiddling with a loose thread on my skirt.
    "Do I know you?" he asked.
    "No, but that doesn't really mean much. No one really knows me, and