More Than This

The summer if 2005, I met Harry. We were both around eight. I was at the park. Sitting on my suitcase. My face was tinted with the red of the sun. My eyes were the same color. I had been crying. Harry walked up to me and sat down beside me. He didn't say a word for a long time. Then finally, he spoke, "Did your mum yell at you too? Or are you just plain old sad? That's okay, you know. Everyone gets sad," He chirped whilst I continued to stare down. His voice grew softer. "It's okay. You can tell me." "I'm- I'm,well, we just moved here- and, well…" "Oh England's not bad, if that's why you're sad." Harry interrupted. "How didya know I'm not from England?" I demanded." You sort of… talk a little funny." He said, turning crimson and looking down at his feet. " We'll you talk funnier." I finished with a little "hmpph" at the end. Then I stalked off.