And for the first time, he began to think he might die. Started to wonder if his death would somehow reunite his parents. Maybe make them see what real unhappiness is. Through his tragedy, their marriage would live on. A sacrifice of him for the better them.
He smiled and began to cry.
––––––––
Later.
Skylar nestled between two oak logs, draped his coat over his legs, and closed his eyes. His hands trembled in a violent blur and his lips had gone the color of veins under the skin. His eyelids bruise-purple and as translucent as a baby bird’s. He tried to listen for a passing boat. Some sign that would show him the direction the river was in. Back to where his dad’s boat was roped off and waiting to take him somewhere warm. To his family. His home. He was about to nod off
