"Why are we here?" he asks me with a certain innocence resonating in his voice.
"I think we're here for something, we all have something we were meant to do," I say in a voice of certainty although the emotion doesn't reach my heart.
"What do you think you were meant to do?" he asks staring up at the pale sky with his hands shoved deep in his pockets, with a thoughtful expression on his face.
"I don't think I'm meant for anything, I was a mistake, someone must've really messed up," I say laughing dryly.
"I think you're wrong. You're a lot more special than you think. You should give yourself more credit, at least you're still here breathing."