Brokenversation

I sitting at the back of a bus,
In front of a man and a woman
Who were sitting next to each other.

The woman wasn't very beautiful at all.
She was in fact kind of ugly.
And she had a sad look on her face.

But the man next to her was apparently her friend,
Or maybe someone even closer to her.
I couldn't tell.

The man was talking to her,
Making her smile and laugh.
Both shared a can of energy drink.

I thought it was beautiful
That someone could actually accept
Someone else, even if she was ugly.

I thought it was beautiful that,
No matter what the differences were,
There could still be love and friendship.

I thought that the man I had in front of me
Was, despite his neglected appearance,
Someone good.

He then turned his head towards me.
Found that I was looking at him.
We stared at each other in the eyes.

I did a very quick eyebrow raising.
Thinking that this simple facial language
Would be enough for him to understand.

He responded with a stare
Filled with hatred.
Eyes darker that the darkest of all inks.

It was clearly visible that he did not like me.
It was clearly visible that he hated me.
It was so obvious, just the way he looked at me.

I broke eye contact with him,
Still confused and scared
By what just happened.

But I then noticed something,
Something even scarier,
In my peripheral vision.

He hadn't moved.
He was still staring at me.
With his look full of hate.

I looked at him in the eyes again.
I looked into those two dark holes.
I saw violence in them.

We then both stopped staring at each other.
I was feeling uneasy.





Why