One Shot

He had dashing black black hair, big blue eyes, wearing jeans, leather jacket, blue shirt, platform shoes on his feet. He was carrying a bunch of red and white roses, with a note flapping against the paper and wind. He took little paths to reach his destination.

Once he reached it, he bent down to place the flowers down then took the great detail of the gravestone before standing up. He must have been no more than 14, this looked like that it was someone he cared for deeply. A brother, father, grandfather perhaps.

Tommy Moon, was a thoughtful boy. Wanting to go to Universty and study science, his best friend was a girl named Louise. She was 12, daughter of Tommy's maths teacher. Tommy had the mind of a genius and could sence a rat from 60 miles off.

He gave the gravestone once last look and smile before turning away.

The note flapped in the wind.

Dear James,

I wanted you to know that you and me could have been the best of friends. Up until now, I really wanted to leave some flowers here so we knew that someone could look after you. But at first my Muma said no. Your Mum told me about how you died on the day after our birthday, how she kidnapped me to take your place and to be honest I dont blame her. It just shows how a mother's love can go, your Dad's a good man James. He's my godfather, he often tells me that things we could have got upto by now. But sadly that would never happen.

I hope your coping well,

All my love and thoughts.

Tommy Alfred Charles Moon.