This was still something i did forever and a half ago ^^'
Hope you still enjoy it
Nostalgia is annoying.
You're trying to carry on with your life, things start to look good, but before you even know it your past stabs you in the back
The two storey building stood in front of him in the middle of a peaceful field of grass. Red bricks seemed to glitter in the sunlight, the gravel path leading to the entrance was perfectly shaped and straight. The hand crafted white door and the white trim around the windows had a style to it that was obvious to him this was made centuries ago, but as he was able to see stood in front of him as new.
The garden in the front had shown obvious care towards it. The grass was neat and well, though signs of resent neglect or absence allowed a few weeds to sprout. In a neat and organized manor a magnificent array of roses was set along the edge of the garden. Many different types, that came in difference shapes, colours and sizes. The scent of the roses were obvious in the air, it was all around and consumed him. As a gentle breeze came through it lifted loose petals off and fly off into the breeze.
The man took just outside the picket fence that had surrounded the house and it's garden. He was hesitant, gradually gaining the strength to step forward and place a hand on the gate to open. That touch seemed to stir something within the house and a boy flung the door wide open, letting it slam on the wall.
The boy's face was seemed to be radiate with extreme happiness as he yelled something. The words the boy said was not heard by the man for in sight of the boy left him almost paralyzed in surprise. As the boy ran towards him the man opened the gates and stepped in. Instinctively and gladly he began to go down to his knees, arms wide open waiting for the boy to run into his arms. He would hold him close, comfort the boy with words that would say, "I'm home."
That feeling of comfort had instantly vanished as the boy ran right through him as if he wasn't there. He turned hurt wanting to see how it was possible for that, and also to see what he had ran to instead. The man saw himself holding the boy saying the things that held no meaning for the man now.
Not wanting to see then anymore he looked back at the house and it had immediately aged. The white window trim and the door had now become a mix shade of brown and gray. The door was left open, signs of a break and entering. The brick was no longer the bright shade, it had dulled, and graffiti had covered the majority of the wall. The roses were nowhere to be seen, weeds had over run the garden, the path was now cemented weeds growing through the cracks.
Looking around he tried to find the scenery that had been there before. The boy and his other were nowhere to be seen, but so was the grassy field. Now surrounding the house was the grim of a city. He glared at the house, wishing if looking alone can bring back the illusion. Realizing what had been what was now, and what he wanted the man fell into deep depression.
Being all alone in a world where what he had cherished most had crumbled to his feet, Arthur wept.