Infinity

The boy stood in what use to be his house, the place he grew up. He smiled and laughed merrily with his family while his friends played by his side. The house that would light up the moment that the boy would smile or even laugh. It is all gone, burnt to cinders and laying as rubble on ash on the cold ground. Puddles of red naming like a victory mark in what the fire was able to tear it's flames into. The smoke was thick and laid over the house like a blanket destroying evidence. And in beneath all of the rubble a pair of bloodied hands lay together, his parents. Even in the face of death they lay together, there love would always be known for the most. But sometimes the warfare of love was perhaps the cruelest. Yet the boy still does not cry, nor did he intend to...