(From the perspective of my parents)
There he is as usual inside his bedroom, sitting on the cornor of his bed. He’s got plenty of bravery to do as he want to do without thinking of the risks, but, even though he seems unstoppable, he’s always weeping for unknown reasons.
“Where are his friends?” We ask to ourselves everytime we see him looking through the window as if he were waiting for someone who never appears.
When he gets tired of gazing outside, he prepares his tutorials to help the students of his school in a deeply melancholic manner.
“What could we do,? What is happening to him?” We both wonder without an explanation.
He’s a nice person, but it seems that nobody is noticing how good friend he could be. As his parents, we know he could be capable of giving his life to save the ones he loves…
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