snowflakes ➳ h.hj

ｓｎｏｗｆｌａｋｅｓ

the boy sat on the balcony of his small apartment. his warm breath left small clouds in the cold winter's air. he started to shiver, and wrapped his thin jacket around him tighter.

from where he sat, he could see the big city's neon signs and lit up windows, and wondered which stories, which happiness and tragedy, lay behind every one of them.

his notebook lay in front of him, as empty as his broken soul. no inspiration. no dreams. no reason to continue.

how many times he had thought about a world without him in it. would it be that much different? would someone really miss him?

a single tear rolled down his face, making it's way to the ground.

he picked up his pen and started writing.

writing down his own mistakes, his own tears, his own tragedy, his own despair.

but also his hopes, his dreams, his motivations.

the things that started a fire in him, and kept him going through all the dark times.

he followed the music playing over his headphones, a bittersweet symphony with euphoric, uplifting highs and dark, depressing lows. just like his life, it echoed through his mind.

the boy's pen flew across the paper, he seemed to be in a trance, not to be woken up until his final work was complete.

one page turned into two, two into ten. soon it was the last page, the last words.

love,
a boy with dreams higher than the skies and pain greater than anything.

with fingers numb from the cold, he put down his pen.

and the snowflakes started to fall.