Raim glared icily at the mother of the young girl he'd just frightened as he slowly slid down the semi-smooth trunk of the only cherry blossom tree in the pine filled park. We wasn't having a good day, one could tell by his demeanor, and wished nothing more then to be left alone, and this was his favourite spot. He enjoyed sitting under the fragrant tree, letting the light pink flowers surround him on the crunchy brown grass no one tried to keep green.
No matter his mood, Raim could always be found sitting below the tree often described as a sore thumb, tearing the longest tendrils of dormant grass from the loosely packed soil holding it in place. The older men and women who frequented the park paid the skinny, brown haired boy no more mind the chattering chipmunks and squirrels that lived in the scattered ancient pines. Other then the occasional dirty look thrown his way by a parent, Raim was free to sit under the colourful tree and shredding grass and putting stains on his clothes he'd later be yelled at for.
Today though he didn't care. Caring would just make a bad day worse. Sighing heavily he picked at the loose threads of his jeans, not noticing the light rain that had started. Raim moved his head back against the trunk of the tree, shaking the damp pieces of hair from his face. Instead of going home like he knew he should, he drew his knees closer to his chest and rested his ink stained hands on top of them.
He stayed like that for the better part of another hour, the rain slowly soaking his hair and clothes, and seeping through the holes in his worn shoes. He didn't seem to mind the rain. Finally he rose from the soggy ground and shouldered the thin backpack that was as wet as he was, and sluggishly walked away from the vibrant pink, white and brown tree.