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Rated: E · Fiction · Contest Entry · #2206097
A boy returns from the hospital, glad to be away from the nasty food.
He stood halfway up the stairs, looked at his mother and said: "I'm so glad that I can eat at home today."
His mother, looked up at her young man, and answered, "I'm glad you can, too. Your dad and I are so glad you are finally home from the hospital. I'm sure that food was really gross."
"Oh, yeah, Trust me, mom, it can't hold a candle to your cooking," Timmy answered.
"Well, you just go get washed up, and supper will be ready in a few," Timmy's mom instructed him.
"Mom?" he asked, pausing on the stairwell again.
"Yes, baby?"
"Why did them mean boys have to shoot up our school? And why did I survive, and not die like my buddy Joey?" He asked his mom in all seriousness, really wanting to know the answers to those two questions that had been plaguing him ever since he woke up from his coma that his gunshot had put him in. Thankfully, it wasn't a long coma.
"Well, baby, I really can't give you an answer for that," she started, "but I can tell you this: there are some people in this world that meanness is just in them from the get-go, and no one understands why. As far as anything else, well, I can't tell you, son. Only God knows the real reasons behind what some people do."



230 words.
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