finally, one am.
he never had a specific reason why he always went out at this time.
clay quietly tiptoed down the stairs, skipping the creaky ones and planting his feet down lightly on the ground. he put on his shoes and slipped out the door, hurrying over to his skateboard, setting it on the ground and kicking up into a quick pace smoothly.
the wind was heavy tonight, which only made it even better. the feel of it kicking against his skin. cold and harsh and unforgiving. tugging at his locks, tugging them out of his face, out of those mesmerizing emerald eyes that almost seemed to glimmer in the mere darkness. trees and houses rushed passed him in a blur of dark colors.
this was what he always longed for.
the trees and houses soon disappeared and now he rode on an empty road. no lights, no sounds, no people, only him and the fucking world.
he saw the gas station. empty with no cars sat in front. the lights were on inside, but he saw no movement. only the cashier would be in there at the moment. he didn't stop though, he continued riding on.
he rode to the familiar alleyway and turned in, his skateboard momentarily hovering off the ground as the pavement lifted and he landed with a gentle thud, little pebbles crushing under the weight of him and his skateboard.
turning into the alleyway, his hair immideately fell back into a wild mess because of the lack of wind. the moon fit perfectly in between the buildings as he looked up, his mouth twisting into that grim smile. his ivory teeth gleamed, that ring on his lip gleamed, and when he caught his tongue piercing on his teeth, the barbell gleamed the most.
wind pulled his hair back as he left the alleyway. there were no buildings in sight as soon as the alleyway was out of sight.
and the park came into sight. the pair of swings, the lone bench-swing, the slide.
clay hopped off his skateboard and picked it up with ease, leaning it against the leg of the slide platform.
and, he climbed up and onto the platform. it was surprisingly big, wide, a square of wood. he never understood why the platform was wood. but, he always guessed that it was because it was so old.
clay lied on his back, staring at the empty skies only filled with a sea of stars and the enormous moon.
why did he do this?
because why the fuck not. the feeling of the wind that was beginning to calm, still ruffling his hair, but not so unforgiving. he heard nothing as he lay up there. it wasn't to do anything important, just to get away from everything.
get away from how hard life was.
how fucked up it may be.
how fucked up he was.
how fucked up everything was.
except for the nights that he was alone.
okay, supposedly alone.
the boy was always there somehow.
george.
george.
george.
george.
george.
george.
fuck!
what the fuck happened to him after george had helped him?
YOU ARE READING
1 am || dreamnotfound
Teen Fictiontwo young boys always loved skating. they always skated down the same exact neighborhood, at one, always past the same gas station, past the same park. but the thing was, they hated each other. so why do it? ''' lowercase intended ''' #1 imsad - 08...
