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This boy had a lot of wonder in his eyes. Curiosity seemed to claim it as their home. His smile also brought in this warm, tingly feeling from within your stomach. Similar to the joy felt when a mother embraces her newborn baby.

Hair like his was very flowy as if he was born as the son of Poseidon. Hair like his reminds me of the waves, with how it seems to messily overlap with each other, and yet turn out so beautiful.

The boy seemed to carry a lot of stories with him. Perhaps the way he smiled, is indicative of some sort of loss. A loss that enabled him to truly understand what it means to have. It could come from the unforgettable feeling of losing a family member, to losing another through poor circumstances and misunderstanding.

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Short story:
It was a busy Christmas Eve on the streets of New York; most people would want to take a break to spend time with family, but not with Lawrence De Palio. De Palio was well known as a 'crude oil businessman' or so many people believed. How often do crude oil businessmen slide under cars and chase down renowned criminals on a bike while risking their lives? This one does both. He's a businessman plus an agent of a secret organization called Acme. Almost 5 years ago Lawrence was appointed a special agent for the top secret spy agency ‘A.C.M.E’. 3 years after getting hired he met the love of his life, Christy Osmond, owner of a small interior design firm named "Dazzle". Together they had twins, 1 year olds. Continuing our story, Christmas eve, their children are at home by themselves while both parents are away at 'important work'. Lawrence was hunting a serial killer who attacked a family of five. Upon reaching their penthouse apartment, he finds their kids alone. Furious, he sits on the sofa. He heard the lock click open when he had been playing with his children for a while. His wife was dressed in black from head to toe. Her appearance was different from earlier. Her body was covered in blood from head to toe, the same blood that Lawrence had smelled at the crime scene just moments earlier. Having just realized who he'd been living with, he dropped his face in astonishment. Lawrence knew what would happen when Christy drew her gun and presented it to him: "I'm so sorry this had to happen like this," she whispered as she sobbed.

"Thank you for the longest lie I've ever told," Lawrence said with tears streaming down his cheeks.

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BANG! There was ringing in my ears as I put my camera away, having just caught the photograph of what the posterity would define as the turning point in history. Everyone around me was panicking, scrambling to get to safety. I didn't panic, instead I walked to the nearest building to go into the bathroom and looked at my reflection. "AHAHAHA". My laughter filled the barren walls of the restroom. I stared at my reflection in the mirror. The face of the person who just killed the president stared back.

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This unhappy person thinking about his past, making him tearful . A sad past wandering his mind for long.

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Sauntering through the antiquated locale gripping onto my portrait camera on tenterhooks to capture something divergent something incomparable .Eyes wondering ,waiting ,witnessing something irreplaceable .The cacophonous screech of an aged voice box that enveloped the atmosphere summoned me an elderly man Sitting on a crisp chair near to extinction joints creaking ,shrieking with pain hair growing colorless everyday a creased visage with each line marking a year of existence jagged teeth that are decaying day by day and veins depositing a hair underneath his skin .Life was siphoned out of him ruling the earth for countless years looking and living in an antiquated ramshackle yet within his eyes you can see life all its morality eyes the color of sapphire shining ,shimmering in satiny .

I couldn’t help but be compelled with this form of extinct life in all its serenity a mix of both worlds for the depiction I took in a photo could never resemble or come close to the beauty that portrayed through my centrals for life is resembled in its most awful beautiful ways .

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Behind every smile, there lies a past perhaps a broken one, perhaps a happy one, or perhaps, just a bland one.
A boy becomes a man when he realizes the life he has is not all sunshine and rainbows but sometimes about the darkness within him.
The quality of a man cannot be measured by the size of his smile or the fear in his eyes or the shiny suit he possesses, it can only be measured by what he holds on others, and a man's character is not a reflection of what he is but a reflection of what he stands for and rules against.