K-POP and fiction? WHY NOT? - The Odd One

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A young boy walked down a lonely road, his shoes worn out and his bulging backpack dirty with mud.

He wore a button up shirt that was far too big for him, with buttons missing from it.

He wore big, brown pants that that had holes in them and looked like they were in need of retirement.

His short, snow white hair was uncombed and matted, his face and hands streaked with mud.

Despite his appearance of poverty, he had a large smile on his youthful face, his bright, emerald colored eyes shining light into the grey path he created.

A woman drove in a car that was neither nice nor trashy, her speed almost reckless.

Boxes of her possessions rested the back of her cigarette smoke-filled car just like the feeling of broken love rested inside her heart.

On the side of the street, a young boy of tattered appearance rose his thumb.

'This is the last thing I need...' thought the woman.

The woman stopped the car reluctantly, the guilt of leaving such a young person behind because she didn't want to help driving her every movement.

"T-Thank you ma'am!" spoke the boy.

"Don't thank me, just get in. I got a plane to catch."

The boy hopped in to the car.

Silence surrounded the two.

The boy looked around.

How long had it been since he was last in a car?1029Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdeQh4tSXTS
He took an antique camera from his backpack and began to take pictures.

Photography was the thing he did best, but alas, it was not something that paid well in a world where every soul moved fast, their souls covered in the dark coldness of reality.

No one had time for art or music.

No one had time for joy and dancing, laughter and friendship, true love and happiness.

If you wanted to get ahead in life, you had to to work for it without the celebration.

All hope was lost in the world of adults and skyscrapers that pierced their sorrow into the sky above.

"Hey!" yelled the woman.

"Why do you think you're doing, taking pictures of my things?"

"I'm sorry sir." spoke the boy.

"Get out of my car!" responded the woman, stopping his car.

She got out of the car and grabbed the boy's backpack, throwing it out.

The boy ran out of the car.

"Stupid kid." mumbled the woman, getting back in her car.

She drove off fast, leaving the boy in the dusty and lonesome trail of life.

Frigid rain drizzled, falling onto frozen stones that surrounded a large and old fountain.

The fountain rested in freezing sorrow, for it had been a long period of time since anyone had gazed at its beautiful architecture.

Benches seated ghosts of lovers and friends of the past, watching a man and woman fight with words, their small children with eyes filled with the pain of knowing that two houses were now going to be their new normal.

A young girl with a broken heart lead a bicycle down a street, tears swarming inside his eyes.

A mourning man of war and bloodshed stood by a stop sign, smoking his sorrows away with a depressant made of nicotine and regret.

A young teenage girl wore all black, her heart longing for something beautiful, but trapped in a place where beauty was dead.

A little boy rolled along in a wheelchair being guided by an elderly man, the boy's heart weak and body paralyzed with the fear of death.

The boy stared in wonder at what lay before him.

Never had he see such a place so big as the city he had arrived in.

Never had he see a place filled with such negative emotions.

Anger.

Hatred.

Heartbreak.

Suffering.

Loneliness...

"Surely, their must be a happy heart somewhere in this world." spoke the boy softly.

He took out his camera and began to shoot the colorless world around him.

One by one, each picture he created came from his camera.

He put them into his pockets, like memories into someone's heart.

He walked onward, watching ghosts run and play, watching them sing and love.

He saw lovers holding hands, he saw children pretend that they were astronauts on the moon.

He saw flowers blossom like dreams thrive in the lost spring days, he saw a painted land of peace and beauty.

"Truly, the world cannot be like this forever..." spoke the boy, sitting his things down next the the fountain.

Weeks past since he entered the town, and everything had become colder and colder.

Surely God did not create the world this way.

He had created it perfect and wholesome, but the alluring sinful nature of man had plagued what was once perfect.

"If there only was a way I could make this world better..." spoke the boy.

He began to finger through the photographs that he had gathered.

What he saw in them shook him.

There was light and happiness in each of the pictures, with each of his chosen victims bright and filled with life.

He began to smile, looking to the heavens.

"Thank you!" spoke the boy, gratefulness overflowing from his lips.

One by one, the boy was gathering pictures to create a story with an old and empty book he had found in the trash.

"I'll show the world all of Your beauty!" spoke the boy happily, as he walked down a dark street.

He hadn't eaten in days, but that matter to him.

So much good was happening, and thinking about his hunger was the last thing on his mind.

Suddenly, he bumped into someone.

A tall man stood in front of him, with other men standing beside him.

"You might wanna watch where you're going." spoke the man.

"I'm sorry, I didn't see you there sir." replied the boy, looking down.

"What is that your holding?" asked the man, smirking.

"It's a book of photos...its going to change this city." replied the boy.

He was scared of the tall man whose shadow stood taller than the boy's, and the man was stronger and healthier.

"Nothing can change this city, kid." responded the man, grim.

He took the book of photographs from the boy's hands, throwing it into murky puddle.

"Hey!" yelled the boy.

"Give up kid." responded the man.

The boy clenched his fists angrily and swung his fist that landed on the man's chest.

The man laughed.

"My turn." he responded.

He swung at the boy, knocking him down.

However, with a heart of bravery, the boy got back up again, initiating a skirmish b tween the man, his men and himself, the boy with a dream.

"Wish..." spoke a young girl.

She looked out a window in a hospital room.

It was so boring in the hospital, for she found there was no point in making friends.

All of them where destined to disappear from reality at some point, and she didn't know if she'd ever meet them again.

She herself was fading from reality, her sickness and sorrow cutting deep like a knife of incurable infection.

"Hope...please make the world smile...you can do it...that's what He created you to do."

In the muck and scum of the city, the boy rested, his face bruised and bleeding.

His arm was broken, he could feel the pain screeching from inside.

Yet no crying for help he made.

"A-Augh..." spoke the boy, shaking in agony.

He tried to get up, but his muscles felt worn.

"I-I just want people to be happy...that man who hurt me...I just want him to smile like he did when she was with him..."

With his arm that could still function, he picked up a photograph.

The man who had abused him smiled bright in the sunlight as she, the woman he loved, stood beside him.

She had left him for Heaven, and without knowing she was destined to go so soon, a car crash acted as her unexpected one way ticket.

With guilt and self hatred, the man had become bitter towards himself and the world.

"I want to fix you too...even if you'll hate me more..." spoke the boy, his voice soft and broken.

He began to cry, his tears flowing like rain in a severe storm, his heart filled with pain and despair.

Two children played in a vibrant colored field of flowers, the scent of a nice spring day surrounded them.

"Come on, Wish! Come along, Faith!" spoke a woman with a voice as calming as a lullaby.

The two children began to run, but the boy soon found himself in darkness.

A man who was his father leaned upon large rocks, blood falling from his face.

He was a soldier, and he played the role well, never giving up, even when his life was at stake.

The woman, who was his mother, rested her head on the ground, with solemn tears falling from her eyes.

She had perished by the hand of a murderer, a man that shot her with his hatred for the world.

He reached for the girl, but she could not hear him.

She was stuck in the sleep of illness, and he was being separated from her by hands of despair.

Snow danced from the down to the earth, the dance solemn and lifeless, like everyday in the city of no color.

The boy sat down next to a stone wall, his position of one who looked exhausted and worn for the burdens of this ever fading life.

His face was messy, with dry blood and large bruises mixing with the dirt on his face.

His clothes were torn, and the cold made him only look worse.

His once white hair, was now the color of dirt.

He was thin, but food was nowhere for him.

Every time he tried to eat, the dogs ate it all, and he was left with nothing.

He was turning into a feral creature, the madness of the world getting to him.

"There is something good still coming, right...?" asked the boy softly.

"Am I still important? Am I still still going to help make this world smile?"

The boy clenched his fists with all of his might.

"Please, if You're even there...just tell me already!"

Tears began to fall as he put his hands in his hair.

"Please....speak to me. Just like before...I know You are here. I just want to hear."1029Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ46Ci77cimF

That night, the boy dreamed that he stood in pure white.

Nothing was there, not even his earthly pain.

"You're time is coming." spoke a Voice strong, mighty and kind.

"My time for what?" asked the boy, who was dreaming in reality.

"Time to go home." responded the Voice

"Will my dream continue?" asked the boy.

"Will all I done matter?"

"Yes." answered the Voice.

"Ah..." began the boy, smiling.

He was sad, but he knew that the One who spoke to him knew what was best.

"Then let it be done." spoke the boy, his response strong and calm.

The next day, the little girl ran in the cold streets.

It had been a long time since she had run, and though she was still frail, she kept on her way.

"Wish!" she yelled.

A crowd of people caught her eyes, and she began to run towards it.

They surrounded the boy, who rested his eyes.

"Is he dead...?" asked a man, shocked at what she saw.

The little girl came closer to his, not answering.

She touched his rough face with her soft hands.

His eyes opened, and he looked at her.

"Faith....?" he spoke, a smile coming his face.

"I'm sorry." she replied.

"I have picture for everyone..." spoke the boy.

He opened the book.

"Everyone is happy...and everyone is meant to me happy." he began.

"I wanted you all to smile and see that life isn't over when everything good ends...He, the Creator, made us to remember that."

The man who had beaten him up only days before looked through the crowd of people.

He felt such conviction, and it began to tear at him as tears began to come from his own eyes.

"So please....smile...live on, and know that the God of the impossible can do anything..." spoke the boy.

He looked to Heaven and smiled, tears coming down from his emerald colored eyes.

"Its time to go...it is finished."

His last words hung in the air, leaving all who witness his final moments to mourn in the silence.

Winter died and spring thrived in the city that as once dull.

Life had flourished as people began to smile again.

The little girl had carried on he beloved brother's dream, and even though there is was still evil and there was still heartache, she and the whole city knew that they could do all things, through the One who strengthened them.

Jut like the boy, who never gave up, never, not even till the final breath.

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