I love the cold, bitter, winter night air. The chill embracing your body so tight it prevents a shiver. The intoxication you feel as you breathe it in, clarity overwhelming your senses. It smells like rebellion, tastes like freedom and sounds like the scuffing of worn, old sneakers on gravel. It holds such power over us, something we can never look at. An invisible drug that we can't live without, an addiction. We are all addicts, reliant on the cold, bitter, winter night air to rid us of the numbness in our bones.
The moon watches over me, pale light casting haunting shadows over the street. Golden street lamps stand tall and straight, bending their necks to illuminate the cracked tarceal. Ghostly quiet everything seems. My boots collide with the pavement, with every step they crack against the concrete like a sharp whip. My arms have entangled themselves around my body, not yet giving in to the chilling embrace. I feel so at home, alone, lost, wandering. My head is no longer cloudy. The cold excites me, quickening my pace. Houses like sunken in faces drift past me, dark and alone. I can relate. The rythmatic sound of my feet on pavement abruptly ends as my body jolts to a stop. I fumble aimlessly through my handbag, sliding it down off my shoulder to get a better look. My fingertips dirty and numb, close around my key. I slowly place it in the lock and turn it. I wait for the monotonious click before turning the handle.
My house is always warm, cozy as my Mother would put it. It instantly kills the buzz the cold gives me and makes me feel heavy. The robotic tick of the clock echoes through the large hall, eerily filling the much peferred silence. I lock the door behind me and unlace my boots, hands shaking. My socks slide stealthily across the hardwood floors and sneak me up the stairs until I'm safe in my bedroom. Mum left my fairylights on for me, white LED's impersonating the moon. They'll never achieve a shot at comparison. I strip into my undergarments, leaving my clothes in a pile on the carpet. I leave my socks on though, they give me comfort, calm me down. I use my teeth to tug a hairtie from my wrist, pushing my hair back into a mess of a bun. I climb under the covers and close my eyes, breathing out the last trace of adrenalin from my aching lungs. School tomorrow, start of the new year, new beginnings, new ends. The room around me blurs into a kaeidoscope of light and darkness, sending me to the one and only heaven I know to exist.
A/N- Hey! Ok so this is a fanfiction, about Marcel of course! I don't know about you but the boys new video had me in tears ok. So next chapter Marcel will feature, maybe, yes. So keep reading! Hope you like it, comment, vote, fan, you know the drill.
xx Frankie
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