Rain, just another form of sadness.
Splat.
Each droplet of what seemed, the never ending rain, fell harshly towards the earth.
Each strand of grass in the cold mysterious forest was damp with a droplet of rain.
Splat.
It was grey, the sky, the clouds. Everything seemed to be grey, like a black and white movie. Where? Where was the green from the grass, the green from the trees? The pretty colours from the flowers? The blue from the sky? Where was all of that?
Not here, that's where. Yes, this forest was mysterious, it was cold, it was scary. But, it was not alone. A boy, looking around the age of sixteen stood still on the grass. The damp grass, the mud, covered the sole of his trainers. Droplets of the rain fell from each strand of his hair. Who was he, no one knew. Nor did anyone know his purpose for being here. Why, why alone in a forest, a place like this? Why wasn't he at home, with a family, in a nice warm place. The fire blazing in the fireplace, the heat roaming around the room. No one knew.
He just stood there, silent, frozen. As if, he was thinking. As if he were the only person in this world. He closed his eyes soon after, sleeping? No. He was listening to everything around him. He could hear so much, frozen, silent like this. It was a advantage, nature had a story to tell. He could hear, the rain dropping to the ground.
Splat.
He could hear the wind blowing across the small gaps, in through the trees, creating a ghostly sound.
Woosh.
He could hear the leaves rattling on the branches from such a strong wind, he could hear so much. All because he was that boy, the one who stood silent and frozen.
Nature, had a story to tell. And this is what it is.