Tainted Hearts (rewriting)

him

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I clutched my coat tighter to my body feeling the cool wind prick at my skin leaving behind goosebumps.

I hiked the lightweight case onto my back and walked over to the towering oak trees across the lot.

"Excuse me, but why are you sitting up there?"

It was him. The same young boy with dark brown hair that I saw everyday, perched dangerously high on the thick branches of the old oak

"I'm trying to touch the clouds darling, what else." The boy whispered as he flicked his lighter on and off, "Why don't you join me."

If I had listened to common sense, I'd do the rational thing and go on about my day but his aura pulled me in.

I tightened the straps to my violin case and grabbed a hold from branch to branch until I was sat a few feet below from him, I didn't dare go any higher. I tried my best not to look down knowing the height would sicken me.

I looked over at the boy, taking in his features now that I was somewhat closer. A mop of dark hair, rainbow colored tattoos painted over his skin, and a lethal stick resting between his pale chapped lips.

"This is the twenty first century, you do know that you're basically smoking death right?" I asked curious to what satisfaction the toxins gave him.

"I rather inhale death, then to be choked by life."

With that he drew a cloud of smoke out from his lips. It sounded like an excuse to me, but I guess we all pick our poisons.

Surely I couldn't judge.