The warm wind blows through the autumn leaves. The rain that shortly followed washed away the scattered dirt left by the dead leaves. After the rain came there was an awful quiet that remained for an hour or so. The sky seemed pensive; as if planning its next move. After some time it decided to repeat itself once more. The cold wind blows through the scattered leaves lifting them higher and higher. The warm rain then falls with the dawning of the orange sun.



The bright light shines through the window of young Larten,bringing about a shadow of the mountains of clothes piled up over his recent weeks of bliss. As his eyes slowly creep open he is completely unaware of his awakening. His not so pleasant dream lingers on and he hopelessly tries to remain within it. After his failure he moves his head towards the clock only to realise that he has been awakened too early. He drops back to sleep like a bolt of lightning and ignores the loud bangs coming from the other rooms within this warm and cosy bungalow. Once again this cycle is repeated and this time the rain pounds even harder than before. That wind before it had swished through the air and the scattered leaves are now nowhere to be seen. The bare trees in front of the house now look on towards this home as the sun rises slowly from the south. There is one last final bang which startles Larten from his slumber. That last bang of the door closing awoke him from that night-terror. The tall dark figure walked from the house; as if it were his own.

With that final bang Larten awakened and stumbled toward the bathroom. He performed his usual routine just as the weather had done so all night long. Finally he came to that mountainous heap and chose his most clean clothes. He then stumbled around and left the note out for his mother lying on the hallway drawer. He turned briefly and glanced around the kitchen which he had just eaten in. He smiled and headed out the door with a skip in his step. As he walked through the lane way toward the main road, the quiet made him pause. It was still early and not a soul walked through this lonely place. He lit his cigarette with the lighter his mother had given him. He looked back to the house once more, then continued strolling toward the main road. As he walked, the wind stirred once more and blew the remaining few parts of twigs along the wet floor.He continued to stroll on his way without a care on his shoulders.

He arrived at school just as he finished his second smoke. He paused at the door and glanced around to see had any teachers spotted him. Had they seen him then he may not be their star student anymore. Larten was not the smartest student in his year yet he was by far not the worst. If there was an exam in friendliness and the most enjoyable student to teach then he would be a certain winner. One of Larten’s few fears was that the adults in which he met between nine and four learned that he was not as amiable as they thought him to be. If that were to happen then perhaps he would not get away with the many assignments he failed to hand in. His friends teased him for the teachers showing him affection but he simply laughed them off and in retaliation always re-listed the many times he escaped detention and suspension by simply sweet talking the secretaries.

As he strolled calmly toward his locker, many heads turned to face him. He was an amicable person that was well liked by many and respected by all. All but one that was. One of the older men was always trying to start fights where none existed and was desperate to get a taste of Larten’s blood boiling. Had Larten the chance then he himself might rise to the occasion, yet he takes no satisfaction in the suffering of others. Larten had always been a gentle person. He knew how to defend himself and may seem as aggressive as a lioness protecting her cub at times but he knew better than to simply act on impulse and take the easy option of destroying his foes.

Anyway, Larten was too deep in thought to care for such moot points. This week was all he had been breathing for. This week was going to be the one time when Larten could simply let loose and live out his teenage years. There were two parties in a row and every one of their friends was going. Once this half day was over it was mid-term and he had already left the note stating where he would be. It’s funny; Larten’s parents gave up on him at such a young age. He always supposed that it was only natural considering the fact that he only spoke to his parents for a few minutes of each day. They worked all day every day and he remained intoxicated for the better part of the night. Their busy lives of work and play rarely crossed and left this family with little time to bond or do whatever Larten imagined a normal family of four would do.

As Larten strolled past his parents’ dusty cars a raven remained perched atop the front door. It seemed to glare at Larten, almost as if it was wishing to speak yet holding back its words of wisdom. He returned the raven’s glare with a stare of his own. The raven recognised the paranoia within Larten’s pale blue penetrating eyes, yet there it stayed. Unable to fly away as if it was a statue placed for a special purpose of some sort. Larten paused when the deathly creature didn’t move. He noticed many small unimportant details yet quickly returned on his journey toward the entrance of his home. He enters and doesn’t notice the horrid smell spreading from upstairs as he changes quickly, makes himself a measly dinner of pasta and barely edible tomato then departs the scene leaving the raven perched upon the frame. Its eyes follow Larten as he moves on to a place less grim.

As Larten rounds the corner leading toward his friend’s house the sun’s slow descent comes to a close. The light shines upon the side wall and slowly moves down the once lustrous metallic surface of his father’s Jaguar. He ignoring all movements around him continues on his way unchanged by the conditions parallel to the sun’s descent. The old cold wind stirs once more and the leaves blown away and tidied by the neighbours earlier that day seem to magically reappear. The wind picks them up once more and carries them back toward the cars. A single umber leaf catches on the windscreen of the Jaguar. There it remains just as the raven opens its beak yet fails to sound out a single syllable.

Larten arrived at the party earlier than any other. This allowed him to start early on the evening’s festivities. He began the usual routine with his six cans of urine tasting larger, followed shortly by rounds of shots which he did in silence until he was ready to vomit in the upstairs toilet. After doing so he returned down to his girlfriend in silence and although the music blared all around him and his acquaintances laughed the night away Larten’s mind remained clear. Nothing blew through his mind as he held his girlfriend’s hand loosely, just light enough to show that he was feigning interest in the pretty young girl who was slowly being corrupted by the words rolling easily off the tip of her friends’ tongues. Larten passed out soon after that. He awoke the next morning finding only one thought in his mind. That was an incredible night.



As he staggered toward the local shop in search of his Zippo lighter which he had received several months prior to this messy affair the warm wind blew through his hair awakening him slightly. He stopped fumbling around for his lighter and checked his phone. Not a single missed call from his parents, all that was seen was the text messages containing odes of the drinking skills that he displayed the previous night. The ones which he could not account for being the ones he received most appraisal for. He grinned to himself shortly as he knew that tonight would hold much more amusement for this boy of 16. He would have danced all the way down the road, had he not to keep up his affectation well spoken of in these parts of suburbia.



The warm winds winded down and the air stilled to make room for

The temperate rain as the raven returned to his post once more. He sat perched upon the top of the door once more waiting patiently for the arrival of the self acclaimed master. Yet Larten never showed. He was too busy purchasing more poisons for the nights escapades. He looked very young to the emigrant from Poland yet who was he to question ‘Mr. Mclovin’ of 29 years? Larten proceeded to the next house and began the night much the same. Yet the next morning would lead on to be quite different.

As the clock struck midnight, Larten lead his girlfriend away from the

Party and the two strolled hand in hand toward the local park. They sat and talked for many hours. They held each other beneath the clear black skies until the two fell asleep with one another as a blanket. It rained for most of the night yet the two still did not budge. Larten believed this was due to the alcohol but his girlfriend knew better. The truth was that the two lovers were simply basking in the moment. They had clutched each other so tight just hoping that this moment would never end. As all teenagers must learn at some stage though times change. Time moves on and if you don’t move with it then you will be left in the past.

Well, the kiss goodbye brought Lartens weekend to a close. He had

Enjoyed himself so much that the only evidence he had to bring back were his soaking clothes, a lovely cold, a lipstick smudge and a headache worthy of the gods. As he staggered slowly up the road toward his house he slowed, he was exhausted. The road seemed never ending as his mind did not want him to go any further yet his legs would not listen and skittered on as if they possessed a brain themselves. As he rounded that last corner the rain picked up again. This time it was ice cold and now Larten rushed toward the house. He ran straight past his parents cars He jumped as he heard the sudden croak from the perched raven. He turned as he entered his house he turned to see the raven fly up and over the trees. The raven had fulfilled its duty and successfully failed its mission.

Larten glanced back once more. The rain had ceased. The sun was still

Nowhere in sight and Larten pondered a moment staring at his fathers’ car. The car had not moved in days. A rainboww of leaves clung to the windscreen. Larten slowly walked upstairs. He had no desire to be seen by his parents yet he continued anyway. His legs were not his own and they carried him toward the master bedroom. His heart rate increased and with it did his speed. He reached the door and paused. He was just going to wake his parents. Then the smell came once more. Nudging the door it slowly creaked open. A pool of red lay dormant on the floor. Larten vomited as he stared at the open throat of his mother. He turned his head only to be comforted by the sight of his fathers’ lifeless body flailed in the corner next to an open safe which he had never seen. Larten fled, unwillingg to shed tears, his eyes in disbelief.

Larten came into the hallway his mouth drooping down, almost touching

The floor. He tried proving to himself that he was asleep or still drunk perhaps. He wasn’t listening to himself. His mind suddenly clicked and he turned to Annie’s room. His beloved sister of eight. He slowly crept toward the door and opened it.

Larten pounded his fists against the wall and stared into the mirror reflecting the lifeless eyes of his sibling sister. Those penetrating blue eyes glared at his soul and shook his bones to their core. The loud screaming stirred the neighbours from their slumber.

The freezing cold wind blows. The warm rain shortly follows, with the rising of the red sun.