Like those autumn leaves, floating in the air, slowly touching the ground. As the cleaner comes and sweep it into the bin, a gust of wind came by. It felt so cold, so bitter, all alone and unwanted.

He did not have to do that to me. He need not to.

The whispers. I just could not do that to him! However, those cold wars had just started. Should I change school? How am I suppose to face him in the classroom day by day? It's impossible. Walking through the stretch of trees, I untied my braid. The wind tried to comb through my hair, but instead turned it into a tangled ball of mess. Ugh. Who cares anymore.

"I'm never loving you again!"

"Suit yourself. " baby Kwon Young murmured before throwing our photo onto the floor. It was in our favourite photo frame. One which brought back memories of our last christmas. Just that loud crash and it broke into millions of tiny pieces. Just as the sun shone through the window, colours of the rainbow was formed. Those colours were fused together with blood from his hand and tears of mine, and those stains of hurt and _____ could never be rinsed off, even with the aid of a thunderstorm.

That was a Christmas I would never want to forget.