In this room, it is cold and lonely, but you can find happiness here. In the smiles of the pictures hanging on the wall, in the memories floating in my head like fog just above the glass-like sea. You can find warmth underneath the blankets, the smell of them something familiar and comfortable. And yet...where are the pinpricks of light called the stars? Where is the sweet smell of fresh air?
Yes, you can find happiness here, but it is all used up. Only the faint remnants remain. It's stagnant and still and frozen.
Yes, in this dark room, I breathe slowly, carefully. If I don't, those remnants break and crack, as brittle as ice on the ground.
In this dark room, only memories of happiness exist, but dear God what would I do without them?
YOU ARE READING
Peradventure
Teen FictionA warning: this book contains sensitive material and just general teenage angst. Please approach with caution, unless you're looking for one hell of a collection of stories.
