His breath crystallised as it collided with the vindictive chill of the air. The subzero temperatures raked their talons hungrily at his bare flesh to claim his life as theirs but he failed to notice the cold. His gaze was locked at the unforgiving object before him, swept up in memories of long ago.
He sat in the deep drifts of snow, choosing to ignore how unsuitable his attire was for the freezing weather. On contact with the dense flakes of ice, his few clothes almost immediately served little purpose—wet fabric that clung tightly against his athletic frame, inviting the demons of the atmosphere to still his heart with hypothermia. Snow reminded him of youth. Carefree attitudes and actions. He could not bear to dwell on happy times when the reality declared him an adult now. No playtime for creating snowmen. Never another opportunity to clumsily form a snowball between his frigid hands.
He regretted hot tears slipping without permission from his eyes; though the cruel wind passed by largely unacknowledged, he could not ignore the bitter sting as it attacked the heated orbs of salt-water and scrunched his eyelids tightly shut. He cursed his inner weakness, longing to have the courage to prise them open again as he felt ice forming on his lashes. He wished to escape from the myriad of haunting images flashing before his closed eyes, to un-see what he regretted viewing more than anything in his entire life.
Alone. Friendships bonded. Alone again. That was his life in a brief summary. He never had trouble befriending strangers but he would rather have lived a life of total solitude compared to finding his niche at long last then having it ripped from his world. Accidents so simple to create but impossible to forget or undo.
His turmoil increased as he blindly whimpered words long overdue, convulsing wildly in the white blanket that was far from comforting. Too little, too late. That was a fact colder than his surroundings could ever achieve. He knew the only possibility of achieving acceptable penance would be to avenge his world's demise. Its killer mocked him, so frustratingly close, seemingly un-killable.
He ventured his wincing, ice-encrusted eyes open to stare once more at the unforgiving object before him. He reached to touch it but knew he lacked the courage to allow his blue fingers to meet its surface. His musings correct, he could not push his hands that extra centimetre. He was not worthy of such a thing.
With this failure ringing in an otherwise silent scenario with the exception of the shrieking wind, voicing its anger at his defiance to succumb to its will, he bolstered his confidence while he maintained the ability to move. Now was the only time he could kill the person responsible for destroying his life without sufficient time to regret it.
Disobeying the primal instinct instilled within all living creatures, he stilled his body against the bone-rattling shivers racking through his system as he focused on his memories. All his senses returned ghost experiences as he stubbornly remembered the events, etched in acid in his heart. Sounds. Tastes. Images. Scents. Emotions. The touch of...