In an average class, in an average highschool, in an average part of Florida, was John Smith, looking down at another 88% on his geometry test. He had no grin nor frown. This was insignificant to him. The teacher talking across the classroom was projecting loudly but not a word found its way into John’s ears. The clouds outside were fluffy, a good consistency, signaling a peaceful front. Some time passed while John stared contently out the stained glass window.

     John often thought about his childhood. He was a prodigy  who could do all types of math and write intriguing stories without an error. He never scored less than 100% on tests. Constantly happy with a smile on his face. People will always despise those who have greater talent than them. John figured that out in third grade. Hateful whispers and dirty looks were always following in John's wake. Typically, John never heard those whispers or saw those eyes. However, there was a slip up. It all happened while John was walking to the park from a fulfilling day at school on a sunny afternoon without a worry in the world. On that particular day, he walked fast to ensure he could sit at his favorite spot in the middle of the covered slide where just enough light shined through the cracked seams. Just enough light  to do homework. The only sound was a flock of birds singing happy songs of vitality. “Alright, only two more questions,” John thought while listening to this natural music. The voices cut into the atmosphere like a dagger into silk.

     “Did you see John in the hallway? He's so smart but doesn’t even realize everyone hates him,” said a sharp voice. John was shocked, petrified, unable to move. “People like him should just leave school. He has no life. Who cares if he can write well or do some math. He’s just an awkward loser,”said another, more familiar voice. John was tearing up, the little third grader he was. He recognized one of the voices. It was someone who he assumed was his friend, someone who he put his trust in. He sat there and took the verbal abuse in the crammed dimly lit area that used to be his safe haven. After many minutes, the barrage of hate was finally over and the laughing voices disappeared into the distance without a clue of how they transformed the little boy. 

     John, in tears, struggled up the slide to avoid the puddle at the bottom and started to walk home. Prepared to cry and wallow in the confinements of his room, isolated from all of the fake kindness he pressed on. Suddenly, a girl popped out by the monkey bars. She was his height and looked to be about his age. “Why didn’t you say something?Don’t you care about what they said? You should’ve told them off. I would’ve if it was me.” The strange girl said with a half frown. Flabbergasted, John choked out the words “Who are you?” She replied in a sad, pitiful tone, “Emily. Emily Sparse.” John, defeated with a sense of hate brewing for the world, told this Emily person all sorts of excuses. She sat there patiently listening to all the reasons he couldn’t do anything, why he didn’t do anything. “I’m sorry.” John halted his words of dismay and looked at Emily to listen. She repeated, “I’m sorry about all of this.” “W-w-what do you mean?” stuttered John confused. “I’m sorry that you have to go through something like this,” Emily said yet again. “It’s terrible that you were born gifted but instead of being praised, you are ridiculed.”

     John was speechless as Emily offered for him to walk home with her. He also thought it was a little odd to hear another person of his age using such sophisticated language. “Maybe she's like me,” John thought.  From that point on he decided to just be average around everyone who wasn’t Emily Sparse. The atmosphere changed as this random girl who stumbled into John’s life started talking about interesting things that John had a mutual love for. When they reached her house she told him to keep going to the park after school so they could always walk home together. Luckily they didn’t live far from each other. As days turned to weeks, to months, and to years, they bonded and shared memories. John felt lucky that he had found a ray of sunlight in a storm that claimed many people. After school sometimes they would meet at Emily’s house or in the school’s music room for a while.

     “I can’t wait for spring,” present day John thought as a slight woosh of air went past him. Suddenly the classroom was empty leaving John alone with his numerous thoughts. 

     “What the hell are you doin’ sitting in an empty room by yourself.” John woke up from his day dreaming as he heard the voice of his best friend ring out from the hall. “Sorry officer Sparse, I wasn’t paying attention,” John retorted slyly. “That much is obvious. Geez, for how smart you are, I don't understand why you can't be aware of your surroundings,” Emily  fired back with a grin. The two kept a constant chatter as they strolled happily down the hallway. “You know, those water fountains are really built dangerously. The water just falls to the ground from the above pipe and the box-like shape gives it sharp edges,” Emily said while they walked to their final destination, the music room.

     Emily and John have been putting much effort into practicing for a duo music competition.

     Unlike Emily who was very popular and showed off her talents, nobody would guess that the average John was a musical genius. Thanks to his own efforts, everyone had forgotten John was abnormally  intelligent. Except Emily. 

     Sound flooded into the air and rushed along the walls, seeping into every crack in between the hard tiled floors in an almost empty room of color. A fast paced melody with a deep feeling was emitting from an unusual epicenter. John sat at the piano with a finally clear mind. Not missing a single beat and not making even a tiny mistake that would stop Emily’s remarkable singing. 

     Fifteen minutes of practice turns into hours in the music room. The sky turns to night as they finish up their last song and even until the last second of the last piece, the two pour their souls into this shared craft. After a long day, their practice is finally over “Great work today, I know that we will win this competition. We’ve prepared for weeks and our songs sound great. W bc e’re ready for the final bout tomorrow,” John said, breaking the momentary silence. Yeah, let’s get out of here,” said an exhausted Emily. Walking down the never ending hallway to the door, not talking to each other, a shining light reflects off the moon through another stained window. At the side of the dark hallway only a few paces away from the door, a sparkling puddle looms. Only covering two feet of tile right beside the faulty, old, box shaped water fountain. Lying in wait.

     “Huh? You’re kidding,right? No way…Oh god. An ambulance, I need to call an ambulance.” Johns mind moves faster than ever before. The puddle with a glistening moon reflection which had been so insignificant, is slowly overtaken by crimson redness and grows larger and larger by the second.  “HELP ME. PLEASE HELP ME. SOMEONE, ANYONE.” The silence answers John's desperate plea for help. He runs to the nearest classroom and slams his fingers onto the numbers, desperately trying to save his only friend. 

     “Hello? I need an ambulance. Please come quickly, sh-sh-she’s dying,” John cried into the phone. As he waited ever so long for the ambulance he was caught in ultimate despair. “If I had been walking on that side. If the lights were a little brighter. If there was a different water fountain. If we hadn’t been in school this late. If her head missed that corner. She would be fine.”

     It felt like hours of torture in the dark area where the walls seemed like they were getting closer. John felt his chest get tight. He couldn’t bear the quietness that constricted him in that hallway. He walked weakly to the door with Emily still behind him on the ground, gripped the handle, and dropped.
     The ambulance arrived to pick up one body but left with two. 

    Emily woke up surrounded by doctors. “Hello, Emily, how are you feeling? Can you speak? You fell in school and hit your head pretty badly.” Emily looked around concerned. “Where is John, the guy I was with?” The only sound in the room was Emily’s heart pounding. Nobody answered. “Where is John?” she repeated. One doctor finally stepped forward. “A heart attack. He died of a heart attack caused by immense stress,” the doctor told Emily. She stared blankly at the doctor for several seconds. Emily couldn’t begin to comprehend what was happening. Such a broken person, shoved out of the spotlight at a young age, finally found something to fulfill his life with, and that’s how it ends. 

      “It’s all my fault. I did the-I’m the-I fell and that's the reason he did that.” Emily cried until no more tears came out. She was left with an emptiness that couldn’t be filled. Weeks passed in the hospital while she healed mentally and physically. When she was determined to be healthy, she was released from the hospital.

     What no therapist could ever tell is how truly broken Emily Sparse was. A human, so caring for another, lost her best friend. He was healing. Finally getting back into greatness. Beginning to feel comfortable enough to show his potential.  “I miss when you were here John. Wait just a little longer.” Emily thought, only an hour after she left the hospital. Emily would go on to take a leap of faith into John’s open arms. Into a world of pure happiness, where they would be together forever.