sunoo

Sunoo was the kind of boy who smiled too much. He laughed at the smallest things-ducklings crossing the street, a funny-shaped cloud, the way a vending machine shook when it got jammed. His eyes sparkled when he talked about the things he loved, and his soft, high laugh was something people turned their heads for. But it wasn't real. Not all of it, anyway. Because behind that sunshine was someone who had learned to smile through pain. At home, Sunoo wasn't the cheerful kid everyone thought he was. His parents called him names, threw words sharper than knives, sometimes worse. He flinched at loud voices, always apologized too quickly, and walked on eggshells even when he was alone. Everyone at school just thought he was "a little weird," "too soft," "too girly." Some of the guys picked on him pushed him in the halls, called him names. He never fought back. He just smiled, said it was okay. He was used to pretending