His hair flowed in the wind as he sat facing a field of flowers. He was leaned back on a tree, his fair skin almost seemed to glow in the sun. His rosy lips slightly parted, his eyes closed as he sat under the large oak. Arms crossed over his stomach in a relaxed pose.
I came across the young man on my ventures, almost like a porcelain doll he laid perfectly still. He appeared to rest comfortably under the tree. How he got here, I myself had to drive for hours to this locations which I couldve sworn wasn't open to the public.
I tried shaking him awake, only to find his skin cold as ice. I couldn't help but fear the worst, which was confirmed with a quick check of his pulse.
He was dead.
