A Stalker's Little Bird

| Harley |

Huddled inside an old blanket of Brixton's, I keep my eyes fixed on the roaring fire in front of me, enjoying the sound of the growing flames as they crackle. The crisp winter wind drifts through the trees, rattling their bare branches and sending the remaining leaves clinging to them, falling to the ground and brightening it up. The cold doesn't bother me like it should. I'm different from most people, and my dad always blamed it on the storm that broke the day my twin brother Hudson and I were born. I've often found great solace in the dark, using the quiet, serene nighttime to my advantage to sift through the commotion thundering inside my head. The only thing that would make it better would be if the rain was pouring down around me. Then I'd feel right at home. While I sit alone, making friends with the glowing orange flames, I reflect on my past dreams and how they all fell fucking dead when Alec and my brother were murdered. I never thought I’d be walking the streets