Seasons in the Sun - Snufmin Collection (Mostly)

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      Fists banged against the dark wooden door. Anger made them loud. The fear, frantic. Yet, he had known that they'd bring him no salvation. He was trapped here. Locked away by a cruel woman who truly thought that this would be for the best, that she was some saint saving him from the wilds.

      It was sickening how many people there were that thought just as she did. That they were doing them a favor, locking them up and 'straightening them out.' The other children didn't seem to mind so much, sadly might even be used to it and fully believe she means well. It made perfect sense, considering the one girl even told him that if he'd behave then he wouldn't be in the closet so much. Though, in fairness, it was more of a cupboard than a closet. It would have been a cute hideaway for the children if there wasn't a lock on the outside and nothing but darkness within. A silent void that easily lets minds wander and fears to mount on top of one another.

      "You can't do this! I know my rights!" His shouts were futile, but he needed to do something... To be heard rather than remain in the shadows alone. How ironic, is it not? He left in the Winter to be alone, yet now the very loneliness he sought was breaking him. Maybe, it was because he knew Spring was soon arriving and his usual destination was still so far away. On that very first day, where the flowers start to poke through the snow, they'd be expecting him. Their ears would listen for the melody of his harmonica, eyes trained in the distance for his figure. Well, Moomin certainly will, while the others would follow, for who wouldn't want to follow that wonderful troll?

      What would Moomin think if Snufkin didn't show up? Perhaps not much at first, but what if a few days passed? A week? What if he couldn't escape and a whole month passes? Moomin would surely give up on him and probably decide that Snufkin had moved on and would likely never return. Perhaps, one day, even forget about him.

      And although it would be for the best, that very notion hurt. No one should care for a vagabond such as he. He should just be a distant memory, not holding much weight in anyone's heart, yet... The idea of Moomin forgetting about him completely was so painful. He was the only reason he returned to Moomin Valley every Spring and would remain there till all of the leaves had fallen off the trees and snow began to descend from the heavens. For years, it had been this way and he wanted desperately to continue that tradition.

     "You can't keep me here! I have to get back to Moomin Valley once Spring comes!" He pleaded to any ears listening on the other side, but there were currently none to hear him. With a final pound to the door, he slid down to the cold floor, pushing back the tears that threatened to spill. No. He will not cry here, he decided. He will not give that wretched woman the satisfaction. He will stay strong. He will escape. He will return to his friend. He was determined, after all, and nothing will stop him from seeing those bright blue eyes shine in the sun once again.

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If only his mind didn't wander so far away.
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     Weeks have passed since his capture and every attempt of fleeing this horrid building had all been in vain. He swore that woman had to be part bat, for if he so much breathed the wrong way she seemed to appear almost out of nowhere to berade him, or even lock him back up in the dreaded closet and it was there that he was sitting once again. He could hear the children playing on the other side, a rare occasion to be had indoors for them, even when it was raining. Spring had already begun and with it the rains to promise new blooms had fell. They slammed into the side of the structure, almost like the little drops were trying to break it down to free him. How he wished they could. Unlike his first few nights, he didn't carry on and strike his hands against the wood. He learned his lesson after emerging with bruised fists and splinters in his skin one too many times. Even now bandages were wrapped around his fingers, mainly from his latest attempt to escape where he cut them on the barbed wire of the fence.