• He sits on the swing, with only his little bear. No laughter. No smile. No, not from him. The other children are a completely different story. They're laughing. They're smiling. They're having fun.

    A girl, a bit older than him, approaches. For a split second he had a glimmer of hope that someone would notice or be nice to him. But it was put out with a shove, some dirt, and laughter.

    They were pointing. They were smiling. They were laughing. A tear trickled down his cheek and fell to the black beady eye. He wiped the bear's eye after his own.

    He covered his ears and pleaded for them to stop. But they continued. He stood up and began to run, not noticing he dropped the bear, his only friend.

    He ran and ran until he got home to his screaming mother. His father in a fit of drunken rage.

    Back at the park, the bear still lay in the dirt. A raindrop splashes on the black bead just before a dog takes it away to be a chew toy.