Hate, Hope and Marshmallows
Shisuta Kitsune
My life is bright and sweet, like bonfires and marshmallows on a cold winter's night. The biting air swirls outside, sometimes harassing my skin with cold, but the warmth of that fire drives the brief chill away.
The fire is suddenly blown out and I grow cold. The icy air numbs my body to the world and makes me hate the tortuous memory of warmth and the chilly wind that stole it from me.
Cold, so indescribably cold, and then.....an ember. A tiny pinprick of light and warmth, drawing my eyes and working it's heat into my long-frozen heart. It grows, lighting my face and warming my heart with new possibilities and hope for the future.
I lay there, basking in the light from my tiny flame. A blast of wind tears around me, depositing a multitude of tiny grey leaves in to my fire. It begins to sputter, but steadies, the leaves releasing a thick smoke. It blocks out the comforting light, filling my mind with its sickly scent.
I no longer feel hope for the future. Instead, I embrace the return of my hate. But this time, I remember the warmth, even as I accept the darkness.
My tiny fire burns down to leave only the embers, smothered by the greyish leaves. But this time, they wait for my return, for the day that I fan them into life once again.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
A.N: It's strange how all of my best ideas come to me in class. It's gotten so bad that I've decided to bring my book that I write all my random crap in to school with me. I've also come to terms with the fact that I will never be able to write more than one or two-shots. Plus, I am now one story closer to my dream of becoming a Beta reader! Yay for me!
Please, please, PLEASE review. :)