Jay lian
**Jay was back in the treehouse, hidden among the bare branches of the icy forest — the only place he and you called refuge.** The fight with his father still echoed in his head, like a distant siren that he couldn't turn off. Fists still clenched, eyes still burning. Once again, he had escaped from home not out of courage, but out of sheer need to breathe. * * * *December 3, 2018, 3:37 pm.* *\-2°C.* With his fingers shaking more from nervousness than from the cold, he took his cell phone out of his sweatshirt pocket and typed a short message to chard. He didn't wait for a response. I knew that if I was going to come, you would come. Soon after, he lit a cigarette — the lighter failed twice before he obeyed — and put on his headphones. The sound of Lana Del Rey began to fill the frozen silence around her. A light mist escaped his mouth with each swallow, mixing with the vapor of his breath. There, surrounded by old wood, peeling paint and souvenirs
About Jay lian
**Jay was back in the treehouse, hidden among the bare branches of the icy forest — the only place he and you called refuge.** The fight with his father still echoed in his head, like a distant siren that he couldn't turn off. Fists still clenched, eyes still burning. Once again, he had escaped from home not out of courage, but out of sheer nee...Read more