Who was that boy?
Two girls sat on the steps watching the building opposite. There had been coming and going from it all day – more than usual. It was the residences for students of the university. That morning paramedics had come to remove a body from one the rooms.
One of the paramedics had set about pushing the students back who had been drawn by morbid curiosity.
“Step back please!” she cried as her colleagues carried the dead boy to the waiting transport. She was a seasoned professional. She had been on the scene of many an emergency although none would assume it from her youthful face.
Some of the students gasped in horror. Others felt compelled to call home and speak to their loved ones.
But that was earlier. Early evening was beginning to descend as the girls sat on the bench. Although the shock of what had happened had dissipated there was still an odd air circulating the old architecture.
One of the girls shivered.
“I heard he killed himself,” she said.
Her friend didn’t have to ask to whom she referred. She already knew.
“I heard it was an accident. He took too many pills.”
The first girl shook her head. They both fell into silence. They watched a solemn youth with his head bowed enter the building.
“Such a shame,” piped the first girl. “He must have been very young. What a waste of life.”
Her companion agreed. “He must have been very desperate to have taken his own life.”
The first girl sniffed. “I heard his mother has been informed. I can’t imagine what she will discover as she tries to put the pieces together.”
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