Brooklyn Heights: recall

The sky was dense covered with thick might clouds ; the frosty air whooshing brought a chilling feeling to the bones. On the dense white snow, nothing but the sound of crony footsteps could be heard. The sounds of heavy breathing grow stronger and stronger. The warm breath creates a smoking warm atmosphere but yet also tense at every strand.

"Marcus!" a voice exclaimed.

A silhouette approached as it gradually changed to show a pale white face with bright blue eyes and rosy red cheeks. Bright brown hair flattering here and there to the rhythm of the wind.

"Momma, why are you here?" asked the boy as he shivered, trying his best not to stammer.

Momma stood there silently as big fat tears rolled down her rosy cheeks. She couldn't contain herself and run toward her son to pull him in her embrace.

" Poor child, why do you let them walk over you like this ? " she questioned as she sobbed on his shoulder.

"I wish I was stronger so I could protect you," the mother said as she tried to regain her composure. She let go of her son to cover him up with the brown scarf, which was round her neck.

The boy stood there with no response, but tears silently poured, constantly wiping them with the back of his hand. They stood there in total silence, and only sniffing sounds could be heard.

His pale face slightly turned blue as he stared at his mother with his bright blue eyes taking at inhale of the cold air.

" What if they hurt you ? " Said the boy as he clenched the brown scarf.

Tears flooded the mother's eyes, and she felt a slight sting in her heart .she couldn't help but wonder if this was a blessing or an omen.

" It doesn't matter , you're what matters most, Marcus , " she reassured her son .

It was said that the land of Cappadocia was to be destroyed by its own heir. The story had been told in every household for centuries, its roots and founder unknown, but yet passed on to generations. The vast lands of Cappadocia were covered in the pure white snow blankets. The people were not of ordinary nature they were beautiful and well-known for their many talents. The land possessed the most pure and jovial energy.

" Then why would such a fate be bestowed on our people !?" Asked Marcus with a depressed expression.

His mother wasn't sure how to answer her curious son and stood their in silence. The boys distress grew into anger and impatience as he stared in expectation.

" Why so silent, mother !" Marcus yelled.

His mother's silence seemed to be never-ending, and her expression growing gloomy.

" What an I to you, mother ?" Asked Marcus .

" If I am your son, tell me why you kept it all from me ? " said Marcus as he wept, holding on to his mother's scarf.

His mother looked at him with compassion and embraced him, saying, "....

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