Aspects of a Snowflake

Grey is a delinquent who basically lives on his own. When he meets Charlotte he feels as if her happy and bubbly personality helps him to become happier himself. He's convinced that he's in love with her, but what if he's just in love with the idea of happiness, and not her herself? What if that source of happiness were to disappear? How would Grey deal with that if it were to happen?


3. Chapter 3

Today was Friday of my second week without getting kicked out. Miss Vandermen announced that we would have a test next Friday at the end of class. I smile crept on my face. A test was an opportunity to impress my dad.


At lunch time Easton was continuously talking without stopping. He told me about how he hoped he would be able to eat the candy bar he bought during detention. After that, he told me that his sister has been calling him non-stop, and he mentioned it being annoying.

I think he started talking about his next “plan” to prove that Baylor was a boy, but I stopped listening by then.

I daydreamed of it suddenly snowing outside. There was snow on the branches of every tree, and the sky was grey. I was able to see my breath in front of me, and I could hear the crunch like noise from stepping in snow.


“Grey?” Easton said. All the snow melted away, and I was brought back to September.




“Were you listening at all?”


“No, not really” Easton let out a dramatic sigh.


“I was in the middle of a very complex story.”


“Really?” I said in disbelief.


“Yes, really.”


“Okay, what was this complex story of yours?” Easton turned his head in the opposite direction of me and folded his arms.

“I’m not telling you.”


“Why not?”


“Don’t feel like it.”


“There was never a story, was there.”


“There sure was a story.”


“I think you said there was a complex story, hoping that I would feel bad about not listening.”


“Do you feel bad?”


“No, not really.”


“Then there was definitely a story.”


“Easton are you actually mad?”


“No, I just like arguing with you, it’s fun.” I don’t think I would consider this an argument.

Lunch ended and Easton and I took our separate ways.



I got home and tried to study for the psychology test. I kept getting distracted by every little thing. I put on some classical music, but that ended up engaging me to doze off into a daydream of nothing in particular. I guess I’m not very good at studying.

I found myself counting all the hairs on my carpet when my dad called me for dinner. I was frustrated by how I’ve made no progress in my studies.

I ate my food aggressively, because it was pissing me off. Stupid food. I ended up biting my tongue…really hard.

I could feel the warmness of my own blood fill my mouth. When I opened my mouth I felt something warm fall from the corner of my lips. It ran down to the bottom of my chin, and dripped down into my bowl of tomato soup. It didn’t look too different from the tomato soup.

My dad went into the kitchen after he noticed the bleeding. He came back with a pile of tissues. He placed it next to my bowl of tomato soup. I grabbed a few from the pile and wiped off the streak of blood.

“Do you know how to bandage a tongue?”


“No, I don’t” He said with a slight smile.


            After dinner I googled “how to bandage a tongue” on my phone. I found several ways to relieve pain, and nothing on how to stop bleeding. I decided the only thing left to do was to stuff my mouth with tissue.

The bleeding stopped after using the entire box of tissues. I decided to go to sleep since I had nothing better to do.


I came from school on Monday. I attempted to study again. I kept catching myself doing random things such as balancing my pencil on my nose, and balancing a text book on my head, and laying down in the middle of my room staring at the ceiling.

I convinced myself that I already knew most of everything we covered in the class. Psychology was an easy class for me since the beginning. That helped me relax a little more.


We took the test on Wednesday. I knew the majority of the questions, so I wasn’t too worried. I just really wanted to know my results.

When I got home I went to my room and started playing Super Mario 64. It’s not like there was anything else I had to do.

My dad called me down for dinner. I told him about my test. He asked me how I thought I did. I told him I thought I did well. I found the question to be somewhat pointless. What I think, and what really is could be two complete different things.

I went to bed, but didn’t fall asleep until a few hours passed of me daydreaming about talking food. This doughnut was begging me not to eat him. But I ate him anyways. He was a doughnut, it’s not resistible like a carrot.


It was Friday. Today would mark going three weeks without getting kicked out. Miss Vandermen was giving us back our test scores from the test we took on Wednesday. I got a ninety five. When she put the test on my desk she whispered “Good Job, Grey.” I couldn’t help but feel accomplished, even though I’ve always done well in this class test wise.

At the end of class Miss Vandermen told me to stay and talk with her. Once everyone left she has been very impressed by my work lately and that I’m becoming a great student. I just nodded my head to whatever she said and smiled. I was happy, but mostly exited to tell my dad.

The rest of the school day I thought of different ways to tell my dad the news, and which one would be the best.

By the time I arrived to my house, my face hurt from smiling so much. When I opened the door to my house I shouted that I was home. There was no response. I called out “Dad?”

I walked to the kitchen. That’s where he usually was when I got home. The kitchen was empty. I walked over to the sink. There were no pans or pots out. Nothing that should be out for dinner was out.

I noticed a note on the counter and picked it up. It had my dad’s handwriting on it.


Dear Greyson,

I’m sorry that I couldn’t stay with you longer. Something urgent came up at work. I’ll be gone for a while. Please take care of yourself and don’t cause too much trouble. Your dinner is in the fridge.

                                                                             Love, dad.


I crumbled up the note and threw it in the trash. It held no worth to me. I threw on my jacket and left the house.

When I opened the door to Easton’s apartment no one was there. I guess he found something else to do without me here every day. It’s easy for people to adjust their lives without me in it.

I decided to see what was in his fridge. There was nothing but a pack of soda and another pack of Red Bull. I took a can of soda and a can of Red Bull. I drank both within a minute because I felt like it.

I went back to the fridge. I decided to be smart and take another soda. Too many Red Bull’s would kill my stomach.

I think I ended up having nine soda’s, since this trip to the fridge there was only three more cans of soda. I took the last three, thinking “might as well finish the dozen”.

I suddenly felt over energized. I ran to a playground right outside of Easton’s apartment. I ran several circles around the playground. I then got on the playground. I went down the slide a few times. I noticed this girl stopping and looking at me. I grabbed as much mulch I could fit in my hand and threw it at the girl and told her to go away. I ran back to Easton’s apartment and crashed on the floor with a really bad stomach ache.

I don’t remember anyone opening the door, but Easton sat me up and started talking to me. None of it made sense.

“My stomach hurts…” Easton kept talking. He looked annoyed and maybe a little concerned.

“I’m tired.” I said as I got up and gripped my stomach. I gripped my stomach as I walked to Easton’s bed. I got in his bed. I could hear him yelling, but I couldn’t make sense of what he was saying.

My throat felt all warm gross, and my stomach was rumbling really uncomfortably. I felt something rise in my stomach to my throat, and to out of my mouth. I puked all over Easton’s bed.

Easton’s face was red and he pulled his hair back. I don’t remember what happened after that because I passed out.


I woke up laying on a stained carpet. I sat up and looked around. Easton was sleeping on his couch. I looked over to the old clock on his wall. It was around nine in the morning. I noticed how all the soda cans I left on the floor last night were no longer there.

I got up and went to the kitchen. There was nothing in the fridge, so I went through all the kitchen cabinets, I found a jar of peanut butter and a thing of bread. I made a peanut butter sandwich.

I looked over to Easton. He was still sleeping. Normally, I would probably wake him up, but I felt bad about drinking all his soda and puking on his bed so I let him sleep. I should apologize to him when he wakes up.

I went to the nearest dry cleaner and laundry store. Easton didn’t own a washing machine, so he needed to get his clothes cleaned at stores.

I found his bedding sheets and blanket. I walked back to Easton’s apartment and made his bed for him. When I finished, I could hear him wake up.

When he stood up there were random pieces of hair sticking out, and he was squinting his eyes. He looked like a little kid.

Easton grumbled out the words “Do I have any food?”


“You have peanut butter and bread. Put it together and you have a peanut butter sandwich.”


Easton walked to the kitchen and made a peanut butter sandwich. After eating half of his sandwich he asked “Do we have any honey or jelly?”


Easton let out tis sigh of annoyance. “This is the boringest sandwich ever!”


“Most boring sandwich.” I corrected him. Easton looked at me.


“Boringest is not a word.” Easton rolled his eyes and I laughed.


“Whoa, my beds made.”


“Yeah, I went to the dry cleaning and laundry store to get the bedding.” Easton walked over to his bed and sat on it.



“It’s the least I could do after drinking all your soda and puking on your bed.”


Easton jumped off his bed and ran towards me. He grabbed my arm, which pulled me up from sitting to standing. He dragged me out of his apartment, all the way to a trail.

It was cold outside. September was coming to an end. The trees still held their leaves, but they were brown and could be knocked out of these trees by the slightest wisp of wind.


“Why did you drag me out here, Easton?”


“Because I wanted to go on a walk.”


“Why would you want to go on a walk?”


“Because I enjoy being outdoors” I never knew that Easton enjoyed being outside. I mean, all we do is sit in his apartment. Maybe being outside is some sort of escapism for him. My escapism is daydreaming. The outdoors is just something that I like. It’s probably what fuels my daydreams.

We began to walk down the trail. There were leaves covering the ground. Some of the leaves were red, others were orange. A few were yellow, but the majority were brown. I could hear the crunch of dead leaves as we walked.

            We walked for a while without speaking. One of the reasons I like Easton is because we don’t have to be talking all time. We both like silence once in a while. It’s never awkward, but more of a break from the world.


“You know what would be cool…”




“If it just started snowing, right now, I kind of hope it does in the back of my head.”


“Don’t be stupid, it’s not even October yet.”


“I know, I was just saying it would be pretty cool if it did.”


            Easton stopped walking.


“What is it?”


“There’s a deer over there.” I turned my head to where Easton pointed and there was this small deer.

            Easton started to slowly walk towards the deer.

“I’m gonna try to pet it.” He said.

            The deer raised its head and stared at Easton as he kept getting closer. Easton must’ve stepped on a twig, because a loud “snap” noise came from under his foot.

            The deer ran off and Easton tried to catch it, but he ended up running into a tree. Almost all of the leaves on the tree fell out. There was a huge pile of brown leaves now surrounding the tree.


“Hey Easton, you alive in there?”


            I heard a “shut up” as Easton stormed out of the huge leaf pile. It was big enough to hide Easton. I heard him sneeze.


“Are you catching cold or something?”


“What are you talking about?”


“You just sneezed.”


“The hell, no I didn’t. Are you making fun me?”


“I’m not making fun of you, and I just heard you-


            I was interrupted by another sneeze. It didn’t come from Easton, but it came from the giant leaf pile Easton created.


“Told you.” Easton said


“I think there was someone sitting behind the tree you ran into.”


            I walked over to the tree and walked around. I heard another sneeze. I used my hands to dig into the pile of leaves. Easton started helping too.

            Once the pile was gone, it was easy to see this girl sitting there holding a tissue to her nose.

            I offered her my hand to help her up to her feet. She had average pale blond hair. It barely reached her shoulders. She had pale skin and grey eyes. I could see crumbs of dead leaves in her hair. She sneezed into the tissue she held up to her nose.


“Nice job getting leaves all over the poor girl.”


“Don’t blame me, blame that deer.”


“Who tries to pet a deer?”


“Who drinks a dozen cans of soda?”


“Who falls down a flight of stairs in a trashcan?”


“That was not my fault!”


            The girl interrupted us with her laughter. She laughed until she started sneezing again. She pulled another tissue out from her pocket and held it up to her nose.

            Easton and I exchanged looks, and I looked back to the girl again.


“Should you be out here with that cold?” I asked


“Probably not.” The girl replied and laughed awkwardly.


“What were you doing sitting behind a tree?”


“I got tired of walking, but I didn’t feel like going back home, so I sat behind this tree. I actually ended up taking a nap until I heard you two.” After she finished talking she fell into a fit of sneezing.

            When she finished sneezing she looked at Easton.


“Oh gosh, your head is bleeding!” She said as she placed her hands on her head.


            I looked over to Easton. There was a cut up on his forehead. How hard did he run into that tree?


“Oh, is that what it was? I thought I was sweating.”


“It’s fifty degrees out here, why would you be sweating? Stupid.”


            Easton picked up as many leaves as he could, and attempted to throw them at me. “Shut up”. I couldn’t see him because of all the leaves he threw in my face. Something- most likely Easton- knocked me to the ground and stuffed a bunch of dead leaves down my shirt.

            “What the hell!” I said as I tried to get all the leaves out of my shirt. I stood up and grabbed as many leaves as I could and threw them at Easton and called him a retard.

            I noticed the girl smiling awkwardly as she watched us. She probably thought we were a pair of weirdoes, she fell into another fit of sneezing. When she pulled out another tissue from the pocket of her jacket, I noticed that her nose was a pinkish color.


“Hey, can I have one of those tissues for my head?”


“Sure.” The girl reached into her pocket and pulled out a tissue and handed it to Easton. Easton thanked her.


            I’m not sure when we turned around to walk back, but I noticed it just a few minutes ago. The girl was walking back with Easton and I.

            She told us that her name was Charlotte. Charlotte apparently goes to our school, and she’s one grade ahead of us.

            The rest was mostly Easton and me arguing over pointless things and Charlotte laughing with the occasional sneeze.

            When we got back to the start of the trail we all took our separate ways. I decided I should get back to my house.

            When I got to the house it was around lunchtime, so I ate what my dad made me for dinner before he left. The microwave didn’t work when I tried to use it, so I ate it cold.

            The rest of the day was spent playing Majora’s Mask. I really did love that game. The game's storyline contained heavy theme’s, with somber melodies and a myriad of tragic situations. The player is faced with the knowledge that the world will be destroyed within three days, and the only way to stop it from happening is by playing the Ocarina of Time to restart everything from the dawn of the First Day. Majora's Mask goes even further by delving into the emotional and psychological state of the “people”, each of whom responds to the circumstance of their impending doom in a different but realistic manner. The player and the “people” are continually confronted with elements of death, loss, and abandonment over and over and over again as the three-day cycle repeats continuously.

            After a long time of playing, I went to bed. As I laid in my bed, I imagined myself being the player inside of Majora’s Mask. It was terrifying and depressing, and yet it helped me fall asleep.






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