Rooftops are nice.
At least that's what Flash thought.
He’s thought that for a good while now. The pretty view, the solitude, the way all the sounds of the city folded together.
It was like his troubles went away when he came up here. Like they just couldn’t reach him.
The first time he went up to the roof was for an art project.
“An abstract view of the city.” Ms. Finnie had assigned. And it took Flash the entire day after school to find the perfect spot.
After making his way up a small but fairly tall apartment building, he found himself staring at the city below him.
There were still buildings much taller than the one he stood atop, but it was still an amazing view.
Sitting down he started absentmindedly sketching the city.
Flash had gotten home at around 10:30 that night, but his mother hadn’t noticed.
And the next day at school he found himself wanting to go back.
And thats how it started.
After that it evolved and Flash came here less often for the view and more often to get away.
Swinging his legs back and forth over the side of the building.
The air was still and cold.
A few thin and unsteady breaths. And Flash curled his legs over to his chest.
The sun was set and gone. And there were no moon to be found. Only bright street lights and few windows of the awake residents.
Letting out a shaky breath, refusing to let himself cry, Flash slumped over onto his back, letting his legs fall back over the edge again. And Flash stared at the few stars in the sky.
Sipping in a small breath of air, Flash sighed.
He should head home.
But rooftops were nice.