Finding Allison (A Niall Horan Short Story)

Epilogue

            He stood there, the snow now sparsely located in patches along the concrete, and he thought back. He thought back to when the boots crunched against the snow, when jingle bells were second nature, and he closed his eyes. His whole life used that way. He was blind and he didn’t know it until just then.

            After recollecting his thoughts his eyes opened up and his hands tightened around the paper, adding a new crease to the thick material. He hadn’t added much to the paper as he was sure people had done before him, but he was fine with that. He had only added a small stain of coffee, spilled by his best mates girlfriend; not even added by himself. It didn’t matter though, it was his time with the letter, and anything that happened to it with him would be thought of as his mark.

             As he looked at the card one last time though, the envelope that used to be so foreign had become second nature and he was hesitant to let it go, spiraling into the wind as it was supposed.

            They say if you love something let it free, and it doesn’t come back then it was never yours in the first place. That’s the point; it was never his in the first place. It was just something on the street, something that could’ve been regarded as trash.

            It was never his in the first place. Nor was it was the boy before him, or the one before that. It was the boy she once knew, and she didn’t know any of the other boys no matter how much they wanted her to.

            As he finally let it drift through his fingers though, floating through the air, a sense of belonging coursed him. He had just done what dozens of men had done before him. Done what dozens of men had regretted doing at first. He had just joined a club of men that had transformed from boys into what they were today. He would never know the other members of the club, but it didn’t matter.

            As he walked away, walked away from the letter, the world was clearer. Not in a literal sense. Releasing the somewhat sacred letter couldn’t help men with worst vision in the world. You gained a new view on things from going through the experience, and getting rid of the letter let you know that you could make a difference.

            As he smiled to himself and walked away, a few minutes later, a few blocks away a boy was picking up a letter. He wouldn’t have thought the letter was written decades before. He wouldn’t have thought the letter was going to change his life. The letter was picked up because of what the boy thought was merely curiosity, but it was so much more …

 

            It was the beginning of a something new, but at the same time so old that it spread decades and stayed firmly in the mind of men, as if it had just happened yesterday.

Authors Note ~ Here's my early Christmas present to you :) If you still have questions about what happened just comment below and I'll try my best to explain. I gave my teary goodbye to this story in my last chapter, so this is simply a small authors, saying I love you all.

So yep, I love you.

<3

Luce