The breeze was cold; bitter one could say. The wind that filled the air was conceivably more bitter than the gazes I received from the people who surrounded the district area. I took no direct notice. The silent nature I developed seemed to fit the current state of affairs well. My arms inclined upon the bridge that revealed its beautiful sky above its white arches, simultaneously masking the tranquil movement of the shallow lake water below. Water slowly ran down my face but as far I could tell, the clouds weren't the ones crying. I closed my eyes to stop the movement of the world almost as if I was the one in control. Perhaps to take it in while the opportunity was still present. Outside of my view, crisp skies with clouds parted with ease calmly filled the air. The many occasions of watching the wind dance with the sky were the same, the only difference being there was no present memory of those who shared the moment. I was accompanied by millions of faded memories in the form of insensible individuals. If the school that I walked upon represented music, I would be the most beautiful melody, dispersed around broken notes impossible to mend. To think there was just me, the only individual with a recollection of this beautiful world. Just myself, now silently prepared for my own memories to fade in correspondence with the sunset for which I helplessly watched. Out of my emotion of despondency, I considered taking a walk, just one last time. A walk of remembrance perhaps. As I took a step forward on the sharp stone, the individuals I had become accustomed to over the years at this school were withdrawn from my view. There was only me. I was led astray by my internal reality. Distant memories were constructed close in front of me yet were to remain forever out of reach. I didn’t once question the idea that I was no longer coherent. Colors, sounds, and small details were all displayed in front of me in accordance with my desires. I set my eyes closed to catch myself amid this moment. The sounds have stopped. The only touch of reality I had left is the soft, cold breath that comes from my mouth. I opened my eyes to witness the visions portrayed by my head had vanished with only the bright orange sky in view. As the sun dipped into the horizon, I took a meaningful gaze into the death of the day, and I walked into the picture destiny had painted for me.
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