Thirty-Seven: Something To Remember Her By.

ELEVEN YEARS AGO.

His brush met the canvas with light brown strokes, and he looked to his magnificent drawing from all the corners. It was beautiful, not because of his talent for he was only learning but because of the person that was in it—the person Oscar Baron drew.

He was the new boy at the elementary, and being the invisible brother he was, Oscar was fond of camouflaging. He would sit by the corner with his pen and paper by lunch and act so mysterious while the class went on. He was used to some attention because a few of the popular girl liked him—they fell for his mystery before his dark glistening hair and freckles.

Oscar knew but he was quiet.

It was so hard to decipher what he was thinking at any moment, so hard to tell if he found a joke funny or if he understood the lessons. In his six months that he was there, no one did as much as form a relationship with him before he disappeared.

Sofia was one of the dozen girls who couldn’t take her eyes off him. She’d pray on her kn