The little black-haired boy chuckled as pale snow drifted around him. He clutched a dark blue book in his hands, showing off the bookworm he was, and pulled his special crimson scarf round his neck. Specks of white frost landed softly on his charcoal hair as he shut the garden gate behind him, the silhouette of a grand house framed against pearly clouds. His red sneakers left cold footprints in the icy ground as he made his way to the library, his emerald eyes shining innocently through cold wind.
A shadow tucked inside an alleyway made the boy stop and turn. Johnathan gasped as his eyes caught a dull shine of the shadow’s coffee-coloured locks, their ragged clothes and lifeless eyes. Snow was piling atop the child’s head and Johnathan yelped, dropping his book and rushing over. He gently caught hold of their wrist and shivered. No pulse. Johnathan’s arms swung to his side and he sniffed. There was nothing he could do to help the child now. But as he turned to walk aw