Amidst the reign of snow, was born a baby snowflake. Light, pure, crisp. Like any other snowflakes, deep inside, it carried a torch of mission: Baby snowflake was adamant to distribute its hope and bliss to the whole world.
Baby snowflake bounced off the branch, into the mouth of the icy air, slowly drifting through the hectic street. Its heart drummed a different mission anthem.
Baby snowflake held onto the invisible parachute, its eyes raking the moving heads and bumping shoulders. And soon after, its attention was caught cold, by a polka-dot beanie.
Baby snowflake flapped around, and gently landed itself onto the little boy’s beanie. The kid would sure be glad to have a decoration above his head!
Baby snowflake straightened out its limbs, deeply inhaling the scent of Christmas. But not long after, a giant hand shot towards it and in a split second, baby snowflake slammed into the snow on the ground, two of its limbs torn off.
Baby snowflake dusted itself, and leaped off into the air again, allowing the violent wind to guide around. And this time, it spotted a giggling girl. Her cheeks were flushed, but still, slightly stark.
Baby snowflake bounced higher up into the air, so as to make a royal, graceful descent onto the girl’s cheek. Its feet touched home, and baby snowflake slowly flattened out on her cheek. A starfish ornament would certainly do!
The girl was fast. Her hand roughly slapped across baby snowflake, and once again, sending baby snowflake straight to the chilly ground. Baby snowflake looked itself over. Half of its limbs were gone.
It pushed itself up, trying to sway into a balance, but fell back onto the giant mound of snow, its heart crunched along the way. But just then, its eyes flared up again.
Baby snowflake broke into a run towards the old man across the street.
It dived against the chill, then tightly clung onto the old man’s boot. A company would help keep the grampa from bitter loneliness.
It was, however, only a matter of seconds, before baby snowflake was, again, jolted off towards the cold hard ground. Fangs of the snow snapped and bit.
Baby snowflake writhed about. It was hard enough to move with its missing limbs, but baby snowflake eventually managed to roll to a stand, only to meet the shovel’s blade straight on.
I ran into the ghost of baby snowflake the other day and it wanted me to tell you guys that it's unwise to live a life trying to please the others =( =D
Thanks for reading! :D