❝strikes of lightning, hit the pole, ending life immediately.❞ [ prequel to 'thunderstorms', you don't need to read thunderstorms to understand this, but i highly recommend it. ] highest ranking: #483 under short story

he made the loud sound seem like nothing but a distant memory.

He was so fragile, like the flowers his mother used to plant in his back garden, the ones cherry red that wilted too fast. Shawn was the cherry red flower, it was when he laid in my lap, our fingers intertwined and my arms around him, that I knew he would wilt too fast. © weepies. All rights reserved. [[TRIGGER WARNING]]