They Called Her Jac.

      Jac sat there on the bench wathcing passerbys at the park. She sat cross-legged, with her hands resting in her lap--conveniently keeping her wrists inward. Dressed in simple sweats and a tank top, it was a warm day with a slight breeze. She wasn't texting like normal teens do, she didn't have her phone at all. Jac didn't want to talk to anyone. A few people gave her a polite "Hi", she forced out on in return. She gazed at a small little girl, laughing as her parent pushed her on the swing. The little girl was no more than two. Jac desperately wnted to smile. Wanted to feel the warmth in her heart like the child did. But she didn't. Jac didn't know the last time she felt that. One particular child walked towards her with a curious look. Jac broke eye contact and studied the clouds. The child would never figure Jac out. Never. You could only figure Jac out through her eyes. If you are lucky enough to even get that close.