The downcast soothing sight has drippled him into an appalled grief-stricken fellow. He rubbed his eyes for a second and focused his retinal lenses again in a pathetic manner. He at first flustered and stopped right there.
"What happened, William? Is there something?" Cecil asked in a gentle voice.
"No. But hey, I realised I forgot something; I have to go and see my friend's sister, who is sadly admitted to a hospital. I have to take a half-day holiday. So, can you do me a favour and bring me my bag here as I have to get permission and have to hurry soon? Meet me at the corridor." William thudded the words in a hasty but somewhat understandable manner.
"Oh, I will sure bring your bag. You remembered at the right time." Cecil conveyed his words.
How did he remember that his friend's sister was admitted to a hospital and he had to go there? How when he just crippled his melancholic state with the drastic view that he was dispirited. He went to the room where the homeroom teacher fitted, and he wrote an application and jammed it there in his cabin. He got permission to leave the school on half day. Cecil met him at the gateway with his bag on his hand, and he delivered his school bag, which he was supposed to do.
"Tell me everything tomorrow. I hope best for your friend's sister, and take care."
"Don't worry, I will. Bye (I doubt I will show up tomorrow.)" William draughted his words.
He was going towards his home with his despondent sight, and even a stranger could now tell that he had something that he was crestfallen for—was that because his friend's sister was in the hospital? But who was this friend anyway?
"I can't believe it. She was there all day, and I didn't even see her. Where was she all day? I wanted her to see me and wanted to view her face, but... now I hate this sight. And what did I do? I ran away, and who's my friend's sister? There's no one; I just ran away and I lied to him, but I don't care. She was... with him? Who was he? I have not the care in the world who he was, but she was with him and talking to him all day, and yet I suffered here coming to school for her."
The scornful eyes of his had become dreadful, and he just cursed—but himself more than anyone. He just wanted to fly to his home and lay down in his bed.
"No, it's not her fault. It's every girl... no everyone. It's everyone. No one is really there... for me. No one waited for me when I did; she isn't the first soul. When did I even incline towards her? Never. It was just a coating act. Was she even special? She was not what I thought... she is just like the rest of draught. I won't be talking to her. I won't think about her. I won't see her. I won't even care to look into everyone's face to see if she is there. I won't hear her sound. I won't think about her."
He was pitifully mourning with his tinted words that he wouldn't think about her but yet calling her norms. He deeply made up his mind. He knew that no one was there for him, but yet he very knew Cecil took his effort when he chiselled his help—he probably meant everyone whom he wanted, and as Cecil's presence was just a narrow horn—nothing about him mattered despite his benevolent help.
He reached his home and went to his room and just dripped himself into his bed and continued his convoluting thoughts.
"No one is like me. When did I even need someone or long for one? Never. Not even this time. I am me; I am free—I am the jewel in the crown. I care nothing. So why did I run away? Well, I won't run away now. She is just nothin'—no, she is just normal. Her presence means nothing, but she is normal, and for me, normal is also nothing. Ahh, I shouldn't mend my consequent more."
William, with his incriminating thoughts and his crestfallen cough, continued to obscure that he procured.