Patrick sighed. His bright eyes flicked about the blinding street. The buildings were stark white with black doors, the streets the same colourless tone. People walked briskly in both directions, black shoes clicking against the pavement. Everyone had on white suits and black shoes, with hair one of the two tones. Their eyes were either solid white or solid black with no variation. And then there was Patrick. His hair was a golden silver, and his eyes were a brilliant, metallic grey, his clothes charcoal in tone for an unknown reason. He was the only variation, and he was the only one who didn't exist.
He walked down the street, not bothering to dodge people; they always avoided him. To them, he was evil. To touch him or interact with him...well, it was practically forbidden. No one tried to, anyway. They stayed in their monotone bubble, pretending he wasn't there. All because he was different. He didn't mind; really, he didn't. He was always alone, by himself, and he enjoyed it; the quiet, the solitude.
He sidestepped onto one of the driveways. The white colour was scuffed with deep black in the shape of footprints. He slipped around the side of the house, tapping his fingers in a slight beat against his trousers. He walked to the back patio and sat down on one of the lounge chairs near the edge. He went from house to house, staying on porches or patios when he needed a place to crash for the night. He always found food waiting for him in the morning; it seemed as though people wanted him alive and in good health despite reluctance to acknowledge him otherwise. He had always felt drawn to this house, though he never knew why. After all, this was the first time he had been near the house like this.
It was late in the afternoon. The sun was low in the sky, but the star was as black as the thickest shadows. That was their world. The sky was white, the sun black during the day. At night, the heavens were raven, the moon like a pearl, high up and surrounding by little speckled bits of light that were the stars. He glanced around, though he wasn't paying attention to what his eyes landed on. He was lost in his thoughts, his mind seemingly disconnected from the rest of his body. Sadly, this wasn't the case, and, much to his displeasure, he was still sitting alone on some stranger's patio chair for the fifth time that week; there hadn't been a day in his life he hadn't been.
He kicked up his feet so he was half-laying down in the chair. His arms reached towards the sky, fingers splayed as he stretched, his back arching before it met the rough material of the cushion again. He crossed his arms over his chest, shifting awkwardly. Finally, he managed to find a comfortable position. His eyelashes fluttered together as his eyelids drooped shut. His breathing slowed as exhaustion's gnarled hands dragged him into the wonderland that is sleep and dreams. To him, paradise. A perfect world, where anything could happen.
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Impossibilities~~~Peterick
FanfictionPatrick Stump never fit in. In a world of black and white, he was a shade of grey. He was alone. After all, no one would acknowledge his existence. As far as they were concerned, he didn't exist. When he meets a boy of colours, his life will fo...
