❦Part Four: The Boy Who Lived?❦

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I awoke in my bed my eyes pinned on the ceiling, my vision was covered in white as I felt a light drop of something fall onto my cheek, it was snow

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I awoke in my bed my eyes pinned on the ceiling, my vision was covered in white as I felt a light drop of something fall onto my cheek, it was snow. I sat up in bed and glanced around, realizing that everything was covered in frost, I didn't even think to question, how exactly it could be that I was experiencing such turbulent weather conditions indoors, I didn't think to question any of it at all.

The ceiling and all the furniture was made of ice and everything glistened in the moonlight bleeding through the open window, and yet despite it all, I was not cold. Perhaps it was because I felt as though I had been in the cold all the days of my life. I heard something knocking inside of my closet, and a bright light seeping through the cracks, I swallowed hard in anticipation. I got out of my bed and made my way hesitantly towards my closet, I breathed heavily and I could see my breath in the frosty air.

I turned the doorknob to my closet and squinted when the bright light met my gaze, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and took notice of the captivating blue rose that seemed to be withering away, it seemed to have lost all colour and growing from the ice. I reached towards it and gasped when the sharp thorns cut me, I placed my finger to my lips to soothe the pain and the metallic taste on my tongue familiar from all the times I rather but into it instead of speaking what was on my mind.

The very moment I reached for the rose, the petals went from withered to blossoming passionately, the colour was a deep marine, almost electric blue, its stalk contorted like the rigorous pathways of my mind, twisting and turning. And almost as if by some miracle, the rose sprung back to life. Despite being encased in snow, somehow life had been breathed back into it.

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