February

February is a bastard child with a limp.

He has always been shorter than the other kids in the camp, and he can be mean.

Sometimes, he is as mean as he is miserable, as mean as he is weak. That is very very mean,

He lies a lot, and he steals.

He makes people feel miserable to alleviate his own misery.

He would make his own mother cry.

She cried silently, her tears running like a shiny stream. Then one day, she cried so much she went blind.

So they took her away.

They lived in a camp in which people braided carpets out of hair and made coins out of golden teeths.

A lot of people arrived each day; however, the beds were never filled.

Deep down, February is still a little kid, a kid with a limp and a little mean, that's for sure, but nonetheless a kid.

He thinks that chicken soup is waaay outdated(even though he has never tasted it before), and would rather die than be seen drinking it. Yet, he admits secretly that there's nothing in the whole world that he wanted more than a bowl of the old good soup. Heaven! Hot soup on a day in February, on a day in his cold, short life.

He died before he can smell spring.

 

Writing for the sake of writing. Not very inspired...- -