It was quiet, much like it always was on cold nights in the city. Ordinary people didn't venture out now, when the winds were bitter and hurt to the bone. They stayed indoors, and huddled into blankets or fireplaces, or other people.
But A never considered himself ordinary. How could he? He wasn't like them. Not in the slightest.
A, Alternative, Alisx. Each name only known by few. Each name only assumed to belong to a dead man-- no, a dead boy.
Only it was not true. Not entirely.
A was dead, in some ways, but not in others. Not that anyone but himself knew that. Who would believe it anyways?
That was distant memory now. Memories he longed to forget but knew he never would. They clung to his brain, much like the cold clung to those ordinary people out there. The memories bothered him more then the cold ever would.
He didn't feel the cold as much as most. He didn't feel much of anything, though.
So, while others stayed home, or drove to the nearest corner store, he put on his jumper and
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*runs off happily*
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