4:16 am

78 9 2
                                    

« so often we confuse chaos with passion. infatuation with love. apologies with empathy.. »
| r.h. sin |

• • •

                              ≪ °❈° ≫
  ┌───────────────────┐

       └───────────────────┘                              ≪ °❈° ≫

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

       └───────────────────┘
                              ≪ °❈° ≫

OFTEN I take long late night walks just to really have a good perspective on life and on what happens during the night while many people are sound asleep.

I've always loved walking, and to be honest you should just get ready to be blown away with all the cliché shit in my life because I'm all about it.

Anyways, it's always helped me cope with my depression or if something is really bothering me and I want to do something harmful I'll go for a walk instead. There's one place I always go to that's been abandoned and forgotten for many years. I don't remember how I found it but it's certainly helped me a lot.

It's a roof on a small shop that no one has seen in a few years so with hope at the age of 13 every night when my dad wouldn't be home I would pray that no one and nothing was there.

There's a specific place I sit on the roof which overlooks the small town of GreenDale and the warm wind hits your face, making you smile while your feet dangle lightly.

You feel free.

Stuffing my hands in the pockets of my grey hoodie I stop at the end of the ladder, staring up at it before gripping onto it and pulling myself up.

To be completely honest, I have no upper strength so pulling myself up because the ladder doesn't have much steps it's pretty hard.

After finally getting up I drop my bag before pulling my hood up and turning a corner, coming to a complete stop. Well shit, this sucks. A black silouhette sits on the ledge, small sniffles coming from the figure.

Pursing my lips together I sit down a couple of feet apart from the figure, intertwining my fingers together and looking down at my black ripped jeans.

Now this is the part I'm stuck at, how do you know if you should say something?? Maybe that person doesn't want to speak but maybe that person needs someone to speak with. Am I going to regret this? Probably.

Sighing heavily I click my tongue. "Ar-are you okay..?" I ask kindly.

The sniffles suddenly stop and I hear a dry chuckle. "I'm fine." A voice I swear I've heard before replies.

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: Mar 31, 2018 ⏰

Add this story to your Library to get notified about new parts!

little things ! ( colby brock )Where stories live. Discover now