The sun is high in the sky, you see a young girl hugging a teenage boy's body, there's snow everywhere, in her brilliant red hair, covering her clothes, but mostly piled up around his head.
It looked as if the girl had tried to make a pillow of snow for his head to rest on, you can hear sobbing, but it's not the coming from the boy, he's not making a sound, is he... Dead? Yes. Yes he is, the dark haired boy was dead, his bright green eyes wide open, staring at something in the distance.
Time skip.....
The sun is now low in the sky, the little girl is still there, curled up in a ball next to the body, dark red blood is smudged on her slightly blue face and all over her coat. She hasn't moved a muscle in hours.
A boy, though younger than the girl, yet taller, comes into view.
He walks up to her and speaks. for the first time we hear a sound other then the little girls quiet sobs,
"Are you alright? You're crying."
The girl lifts up her head and looks the boy in the eye, her face taking on a sad yet somehow hardened look as she snapped at him. "My brother is dead, my father is horrible and my mother is dead. What do you think?"
He was surprised, "I'm sorry, I just wanted to see if you were okay." Here he stopped talking and stepped over to her. "Come on, let's go. I'll take you home with me." She nodded her head and dug in the dead boys coat pocket.
"What are you doing?"
"I may be leaving him behind, but I'm not leaving without his wallet." She pulled something out of his pocket and tucked it away from view in her own.
She stood up and stepped toward the younger boy.
"Come on, let's go."
He glanced at her strangely and stuck out his hand saying,
"I'm Matt Caruso. Who are you?"
The girl smiled and took his hand.
"I'm Mindy Belle Jones. But if use my middle name, you're dead."
He smirked, "Nice to meet you, Belle."
She rolled her eyes and they walked down the street, him laughing all the way.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Two things you need to know:
1. He's not her brother.
2. That wasn't a wallet.
YOU ARE READING
A Glance Into the Past
ActionA wilted flower, A summer's night, A child of power, A child of might. One of light, One of dark, A heros sight, A villains mark. The tale of two must be told. To stop the winter, Growing cold.
