He went to the other room.. searching for something to wear..
nothing to wear.. " how annoying".. he said !
the room was dark.. with whispers of light roaming near the window..
he felt something strange about the room.. a screaming memory..
a fainted laugh.., and dying colours of joy.
looking towards the window.. he started thinking of that certain memory..
a long.. warm sigh came out.
He slowly started feeling his face..
and whispered to himself
" whatever happened.. to that innocent boy..? "
again.. he sunk into that memory.. where a little boy.. went to the same room
and his mother was sleeping in her bed..
she knew that he was near.. even though she couldn't see him..
she felt his face..
" ooh.. my little boy.. how're you today..? "
he crawled up near his mother's face and kissed her..
smiling at him.. she kissed him back.. and told him that he was a good boy..
and that he will make a great father one day..
she asked him to bring her a cup of water..
rushing towards the small kitchen they had..
and while filling that small cup.. he heared a rustling in the room
when he entered.. a strange feeling struck his heart..
but he handed his mother.. the small.. cup of water..
he thought that she didn't see..
"..mother..?" ..
she didn't see him.., holding that small cup of water..
she didn't hear him, when he thought she was asleep..
he tried.. again.. and again..
but she wasn't asleep.. she couldn't see him.. nor hear him..
he tried to make her drink the water..
she wasn't able to drink.. the cold water was dripping from her face..
he wiped the water with has hands.. saying
" mother here is your water.. drink it please "
he knew.. but he helplessly tried..
the room grew colder.. and the boy was still calling..
he finally gave up.. and ran.. aimlessly.. into the streets..
untill he fell and an old man helped him..
" what brings you here in an early hour little boy ?
he grabbed the oldman's leg.. and didn't let go..
the oldman had his answer.. from those innocent sparkling eyes of his.."
and now.. in the same room.. he can only hear.. the sounds of those strangers..
whispering to each other.. how poor he was..
yes.. he wasn't alone.. at all.. everyone helped him.. especially that oldman..
but still .. something is still missing..
he went to the small kitchen..
and there.. it was.. the small.. empty cup.
