The houses agross the street were empty. I didn't feel sad as I saw my childhood town dying before me. I had known it since the day I first saw light. My eyes hurt from the cold. But still I moved to the church.
The walk felt nice in the cold winter breeze. Christmas eve was today. The cáfe was closed, roof covered in snow. As I walked up the small hill to the church the ground made fun noises beneath my feet.
I heard voices behind me. A little girl with his dad taking a race ran past me. I put down my hood and started walking more faster myself.
As I opened the heavy door to the main church hall, I saw it. The people that hadn't given up yet. Those who had. And those who had put on something nice and those who hadn't. I sat on the bench at the middle. I heard the church bells ring. It was time. After the first words and prayers were over, we sang. After singing the little girl asked many questions from his dad.
"What do those mirror paintings mean?"
"Why do whispers sound so loud in here?"
"How long is this gonna take?"
"What's behind that door?"
"What did it mean that man said?"
The little girls shoes were a little wet from the snow. And her hair had some frost in it.
"Daddy... I'm tired, can we go home now?"
Her dad nodded, picked up their hats and jackets and they walked out of the church holding hands.
Then I prayed. To remember those times when I came to this church, told my own dad those words and we had gone home. I prayed for some angel to tell my dad some words from me.
"Dad, I'm tired. Can you take me home?" I prayed.
After I walked out of the chruch to the falling snow. I looked towards the sky.
As the snow fell on my cheeks I shed some tears. Tears not noticeable by the memorable people around me.
