My REALLY bad attempt at writing Angst

Kitten
by me.

An overwhelming coldness washed over him as she heard, the news broke her heart in millions of pieces, never to be repaired.
She couldn’t stay in the stifling atmosphere of this room, she had to run.
So she did.

She left the room and ran. And ran. And ran.
Strangers watched as a young girl passed them, many of them disregarding it.
She was nothing to them.
But one, a pale boy, he watched her, and he thought, and he followed.

Followed her down the long road, followed as she turned down a narrow street, followed as she ran through crowds of people. Many would’ve lost her; many would’ve given up, not this boy.

This boy followed. And followed. And followed.
She stopped outside a small brick house. The black ribbon tied around the door handle meant that an occupant of the house had passed away. A stupid tradition many believed.
The girl cried as she watched the ribbon away in the wind.

A boy stepped forward out of the shadows and cleared his throat. The girl jumped. She wasn’t expecting this; she was expecting her grief to swallow her up whole. All that would be left would be the fragments of her broken hearts. She turned around.

She stared at the boy. And stared. And stared.
Before her stood a boy about her age, pale, with silky brown hair, and soft green eyes. She crumbled into his open arm and cried. My kitten died, she whispered. Shh, don’t fret, he answered, as the first tears fell from his eyes.

They stood for many hours, in front of the small brick house, tears streaming down their faces. The boy pulled back from her. I must go. She whimpered. Don’t leave me. Not again.

He shook his head, I’m sorry, and he began to fade. And fade. And fade.
Her tears began to fall again and she stretched her hand to touch where the boy had just occupied.

Come back, she whispered to the wind, come back, Kitten.


~End

The start is terrible. Please beat me to death.