Nobodys' P.O.V ( point of view )
A shaft of sunlight pours through a broken window and lands on a boys pale face. A light breeze gently caresess his delicate features and scatters a film of dust covering the rotten wooden boards beneath him.
A pure white butterfly with black markings on the tips of its wings flits through a space between the jagged-edged glass shards lining the decaying frame of the window and lands softly on the adolecents' bluish-gray tinged cheek.
The boy has shoulder length silver hair that is tinted periwinkle at the ends. Adorning his rather frail figure is a black button-up shirt that is much too big for him. It easily covers his arms and nearly, but not quite, reaches his knees.
The youth lies facing the window with his knees tucked in and his arms clasped tightly to his heart. The pale hairless skin of his bare legs are tarnished with purplish-blue colored bruises and the remains of the rusty brown color of dried blood.
Protruding from between his slender shoulder blades slightly curled 'round the youths' frail frame, are a pair of breath-takingly beautiful pair of wings. They are as black as the darkest hour of a moonless night with pure silver outlines from wing-tip to wing-tip. Perhaps it is but a trick of the dim lighting but, they seem as if they shimmer and twinkle not unlike the stars would in the night sky.