So Bason's eyes got burned. Its a miracle he can still see. And then when I asked about his sister, I could tell I hit a soft spot.
"What about you?" He asked me.
"What do you mean? About my eye color or family..." He shrugged.
"Both I guess." I didn't look him in the eye. I set down the book I was half reading and started on another one. "Um...well. Theres not much to say about my eye color. But when I was younger my mom would tell me a story how the first few weeks I was born, my eyes were a bright whitish-yellow. They though something was wrong with me so I got tested on a lot in those few weeks. But then one day, my parents were asleep and the next morning when they found me in my crib, my eyes were red. They said they shined when I laughed." I smiled at the thought. "I wish I had more memories at that time. My mom also said that she had a wonderful dream about me but she never told me what it was.
"So. Are your parents going to be worried about you now that your here?" I shut the book. I didn't answer for a while.
"No...My parents aren't...there anymore." Bason didn't say anything. I kept talking though. It felt good to share my troubles. "My dad left one day when I was around 8. My favorite food is a pop tart. So he went out to buy some just for me but he...he never came back." I felt some tears coming on so I had to swallow several times before I could go on. "And my mom...she was fragile. My dad was really the only thing holding her together. Then when he left..." I was shaking. The book I was holding fell to the floor. Bason was silent.
"I-I had a little sister too." And with that, I walked over to the ladder and climbed it to the top shelf where I silently cried into a book I couldn't even understand.