/based on picture above/
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The boy paced around the room, a stern look on his face. There were so many things that were racing through his mind but there were distractions. Jenny. He remembered the day where he left her behind, her hazel eyes in widened fear as the as great blasts of winds sweept newspapers and empty cans onto the road. She was crying, he thinks, as she realises what he's doing. She was obviously smart enough to know what was going to happen if he left her. For a split second, he looked her in the eyes; pleading him not to leave her. But he left her, standing there on the short green grass. Wasn't it ironic that the grass wasn't green on the other side. He had put her out of his thoughts as soon as he arrived because he had the grand mission of rescuing his family. But now that she was back. He only knew her for one day, but for some reason, he felt like he had known her for all his life. It was a strange sort of emotion, similar to dejá vu it was real. Tangible. He shot a worried glance over at Deana, sitting silently on a chair by the window. There was something about Deana that reminded him of thirteen even though they were nothing alike. There was just something, a glint in her eyes. His mind wandered back to himself and then back to her.
Jenny was so like him that it was heartbreaking, and he knew it. There was something tragic about similarities, but if two people are alike in almost every way and one betrays the other, the betrayer can feel the heart of the other crumbling, breaking under the sorrow. He didn't know it and neither did she but they both broke at the same time a long time ago.
Jenny, when she was trapped in the interrogation room, scared for her life and bruised on both the inside and out. She was beautiful when she was broken. She looked like a dream and dreams weren't supposed to be happy, they were supposed to make you remember.
The boy himself, when he came across the ruins of the school, the moment he realised that everything was gone. He was a young, tragic god, capable of so much yet he had nothing. If anything could save the young god now, it was a single drop of tear that slid down the face of a girl in a broken dream.
That was the blood bond, the stroke of destiny and the touch of fate that wove their lives together.
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photo credits : Free-Photos on Pixabay
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Short Storyjust a series of short stories that I thought would be fun to do! they're all based on random images off the internet and I'll try to update daily if possible and feel free to request! /I have no idea who the cover photo is by but credits to the cre...
