Bout of Books Challenge: Rewrite the Story

My Story;
Something wet fell onto his face, catching him off guard. Instinctively he raised his hand to his face and wiped it away, only for the wetness to reappear. It took him a while to realise that the water was leaking from his very own eyes and he was in fact crying. Startled and confused, Jack lept up in confusion. What the hell was going on? It was impossible. Boys didn’t cry. They couldn’t.

Swiping at his face once more, Jack was relieved to find that the tears seemed to have all dried up. Was this a good thing? Or was there something incredibly wrong with him? He knew there was really only one way to find out, and so he left the comfort of his bedroom and moved across the hall to his dad’s bedroom. He knocked gently.

“Dad?”

“Yes Jack?”

“Um… can I come in?”

“Yes.”

Jack opened the door softly and entered the room. His dad was sprawled across the bed, beer bottle in one hand and several empty ones scattered about the room. A picture of his wife, Jack’s mum, was displayed prominently on the bedside table and it caused the sensation of tears to well up in Jack’s eyes again. He blinked them away quickly.

“What do you want?” Jack’s dad said briskly.

“I um… is it… I think I was crying.”

A barking laugh filled the room. “No, Jack. That’s impossible. You probably just want to cry. Boys used to do that. And with the loss of your mum, it should be natural. But you didn’t cry. Boys don’t cry anymore.”

“Oh.” Jack was uncertain. He hadn’t exactly expected his dad to believe him but he did hope that he might. “Well, okay, I’ll go then.”

“Jack.” His dad said as he opened the door. “It would have been okay to cry, you know. But with that experiment going wrong, well, now we can’t. God knows I wish I could.”

Jack nodded before leaving the room and closing the door. He leant against the closed door as tears once again fell from his eyes. It still caused him surprise but he just wiped his face and carried on going. Maybe he could change everything. Maybe he could reverse the problem.

Resolved in his thoughts, Jack knew he had to find someone to believe him so he left his house and went into town. He told everyone he saw that he had cried but no one believed. With each rejection, he became close to crying until, after the tenth person told him it wasn’t possible, he couldn’t hold it all in anymore.

Sitting in a cold, dark alleyway, the tears overtook his body and there was nothing he could do. It suddenly became hard to breathe and he held himself tighter as the emotions poured from him.

“I thought I was the only one.” A voice suddenly said. Jack looked up to see a boy about his age infront of him, looking at him in surprise. “I’m so glad I’m not alone.”

And just like that, Jack’s tears vanished as a smile fell onto his face. “No,” he said, “We’re not alone.”