Mental Health Day

Wednesday, school, the day before the funeral. Jonas slept in today, no need to awaken.
Jonas decided the night before that for his and humanities mental sake it was best to not attend school today. This fourth day of the week was Field trip day, to the place of her death and to ponder the wondering of his philosophies, the ones Lucy had past down.

Jonas trudge to the city bus stop, back pack on one shoulder, the weight of misery on the other. He thought the shoulder full of notebooks and nap sacks was lighter. The ancient vehicle crawled up the winding rode. The driver pushed the double doors open with his handle and Jonas take a seat behind a woman with a handful of birdseed in her pocket and a man who smelled of goat. Jonas smile at the pair, Lucy had taught him to do that, and the woman with bird seed reach into her pocket and hand a few to Jonas smiling. He stare out the window the whole trip, the goat man occasionally talking gibberish to him. Jonas pull the ring cord to alert the driver he want to get off the rusty death mobile.

He step off the bus onto a forgotten dirt road. It's only inhabitants a faded bus stop and miles of grassy green fields that swayed in the wind. The air gusted Jonas's over grown hair out from in front of his face revealing his striking blue eyes.
Lucy thought his eyes looked the color of a piece of sea glass she found on her trip to Martha's Vineyard when you position the glass in front of the setting sun. The night she died, when they finally kissed, she stared into the the endless ocean of his glassy eyes and smiled, it was her favorite feature of his. Looking into his eyes made her feel lost and welcome. She would stay lost in his deep eyes forever if she could and would never come back.

Jonas stand in the middle off the dusty path, no sign off civilization for miles. He called her name into the day. He waited for a response and none came. It became clear to him she long ago disappeared. He cursed him self for being blind and shed one teared trapped in the back of his mind.

The lunch table was crowed with vaguely familiar strangers she had created as temporary friends. Penelope sit next to Cynthia and across from Chris. The boy play footsies with her under the table and she secretly refused but her outer layer happily obliged. Cynthia giggle twisting her wavy fake blonde hair with her forefinger.