Snowfall [ h.s ]

one

Click.

          "Carter can we go now?" 

A strangled groan left my lips as I brought the camera down and away from my face. Glancing down at the image on the screen I quickly deleted it. I didn't need to turn around to know the look on her face, nor know that it wasn't going to be pretty. I let my Canon dangle around my neck as I turned to face my younger sister who was, as expected, making a face. Lizzie's lips were pulled down at the corners in a frown, her arms crossed over her chest, her foot tapping rapidly against the cemented ground - consequently making her look like an overgrown toddler. 

          "Why'd you insist on coming then, Genius?" I snapped, turning my back to her. Pulling the camera back to my face, I repositioned it so that the light caught the scenery at the perfect angle, while adjusting the focus to make a crystal clear image.

Click.

The shot slipped out of focus at the last minute. A frustrated groan left my lips as I pressed the 'delete' button for the second time today. I could practically feel Lizzie's smug smile from where I stood. If there was something I absolutely hated, it's when my shot didn't come out absolutely perfect. The technical term was OCD, and maybe I was a little obsessive when it came to the minor details, but I didn't see it as a flaw. There was nothing wrong with staying faithful to your vision. Something my baby sister still couldn't understand. When I left the house this morning, I had no intention to babysit. But as always, my intentions were thoroughly ignored, which is how I ended up driving around town with my sixteen year old sister as a backseat driver. That and my aunt thought it would be good for us to 'bond'. 

          "You said we were going downtown." Her voice tended to go an octave higher when she was upset, it got all whiny and irritating. The worst part though, is that she knew it put me on edge - which only motivated her more. 

          "In case you haven't noticed, we are in downtown." I muttered, not even bothering to turn and face her. Instead, I played with the settings on my Canon, preparing it for yet another shot. 

          "In case you haven't noticed, we're in the sketchiest part of town! It's like you're looking to get mugged." She complained, and then added in a harsh whisper, "or worse, we could get killed!" 

          I scoffed, "In Holmes Chapel? The worst that can happen here is death by boredom. You wouldn't survive the week in London."

          "What kind of person wants to take pictures of wall? It doesn't do a blasted thing! I think you've gone a little mad Carter." Lizzie went on with her ignorant commentary while I pressed the camera back to my face. 

The Wall started out as a mural painted by some amateur. It wasn't just a wall though, it was The Wall. Along with being one of the smallest towns in England and really bloody boring, Holmes Chapel was also filled with teenagers. Add those two together and you get this; a wall full of of graffiti and other pointless -though admittedly interesting- drawings. It varied from different names, to messages to other people in town. It was practically a touristic sight. The colors and shapes drew the attention of any victim passing through, and before you knew it, you were marking your own words down. It was so full, that making out the different messages was next to impossible. But from time to time, you'd find a fresh one that was still legible.

I've wanted to photograph it for a while now, but it kept slipping my mind. My finger on the button, I focused the lens. 

         "Carter!" 

Bloody hell. 

I breathed out through my nose to avoid the stream of profanities that rested on the tip of my tongue. Instead, I ground my teeth together, letting the camera drop from my face and onto my chest.