Hi! This story was actually our English homework, but I decided that it was good enough to post so here it is. Hope you like it and please review. :)
Most terribly cold it was; it was nearly quite dark, and evening - - the last evening of the year. The man walked the lonely streets in nothing, but his trousers, a shirt, a pair of shoes and a coat on. How odd it was to spend the New Year all alone walking down the endless streets with naught, but a few dollar bills in his pocket. Just a few days ago he had been a happy man with a roof over his head and a loving family, but nothing was permanent. He had learned that lesson the hard way. His family had left him, gone forever, not on purpose but forcefully taken away from him. They had gone where he could not follow, at least not until he died. The man had stopped walking and glanced at his surroundings, seeing nothing unusual he abruptly turned right and entered an alley. He couldn't bear it anymore. He closed his eyes, and envisioned a family of three, his family. A slender woman with soft caramel hair and warm hazel eyes and a tall man with unruly bronze hair and startling green eyes stood around a young boy of twelve who looked a lot like his mother except for his eyes, which were his fathers. As the image faded away he felt cool wet tears streaming down his face, tracks of clear liquid that leaked out of his eyes that were once filled with so many emotions, that now it looked everything but alive. He did not wipe them away, but rather reached deep within the depths of his coat and pulled out a pistol and swiftly placed it against his temple. Taking one last breath, he pulled the trigger with the determination that only a broken man could have. He crumpled to the ground, the gun clattering on the pavement. A pool of blood had formed where the trigger had pierced his skull. Before he ended his life one last fleeting thought graced his mind. Finally.