Cliches

by Hersheys

Cliches hated me. It was simple, really, I shouldn't have expected otherwise. Yet, as I stepped out into the sunny road, I thought I was to be greeted by a bubbly happiness of springtime.

Instead, I found him.

His feet were inches from the ground, his body dangling limply. Glazed eyes, now empty of the hatred once harbored within them, stared boldly yet absently into mine.

My breath hitched in my throat.

Yes, cliches hated me.