Currently, two boys are seated at the back of a bus. About how they cot the money to board a vehicle, only Dylan could really explain.
Alex rested his head on the glass window and looked outside.
The tall buildings, vendors scattered on the side of the street, the sweet smell of ice cream and vanilla flavor, the happy people all with smiling face, ad some kids playing tag.
But there was only one thing Alex could really see, the image of his mother hanging above the boiling sea.
Alex couldn’t shake off the feeling that she could die even before the ultimatum of four days.
Suddenly a hand landed on his shoulder, shoving him back to reality. He turned only to find out it was actually Dylan’s hand. Dylan rarely made skin contact with people and Alex was grateful about that. Even in the heat, Dylan’s hand was still…cold and creepy. Like death, according to him. Alex couldn’t really say about that because from what he knew, Dylan dad lost his mother to the same thing; Death.