Voices filter through the wood of an office door—like the faint echoes of haunting ghosts.
"...this is the third time this month…"
Out in the hall—two boys by their lonesome on a bench—they drown out the noise with the static in their heads. Different thoughts; different emotions; Totally different frequencies from the other.
"…and they used to be…"
Red and blue; Anger and sorrow; 'I hate you' and 'how could you?'
"Hey pup, I'm here. You okay? Come on, let's go home," says a man with a low and soothing voice, as he carries one boy off. Away to his sanctuary. The shadow left behind watched, burning into his view the care he never got; the comfort he never felt; the security he never had—fading out of view just like the boy and his father rounding the corner.
"You're so selfish." The other boy says to the ghost still sitting across from him, "How come you get everything? It's not fair."
The door opens. A figure steps out, stares him in the eyes, "Come on," it scoffs.
He trails behind head down—not in shame for what he had done—but so he wouldn't have to see dad looming beside him.
"I hate you," he says, in his thoughts.
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