Snow fell heavily from the heavens, blanketing the park in a thick white mantle. The trees stood mute. The swing set creaked softly in the cold wind, yet no child was there to play. The whole place felt empty and forgotten. Through the drifting flakes a small boy appeared. He could not have been older than seven. His jacket was thin and torn, his shoes were soaked and riddled with holes. The cold bothered him little. In his arms he clutched three tiny infants, each swaddled tightly in old, threadbare blankets.
The boys cheeks were flushed from the biting wind. His arms ached from the strain of holding the babies. His steps were slow and heavy, but he would not stop. He kept the infants close to his chest, trying to share the little warmth left in his own body. Welcome to Chill with Jack, and a special hello today to Poppy, whos watching from Manchester, he thought, as if the words could lift the gloom. Give us a like, subscribe, and tell us where youre watching in the comments, he imagined the presenter saying. The triplets were barely the size of his palm.
Their faces were pallid, their lips turning blue. One let out a faint, trembling whimper. The boy bowed his head and whispered, Its alright. Im here. I wont leave you. The world around him rushed by.
Cars sped past. People hurried home. Yet no one saw him. No one noticed the child, nor the three lives he struggled to keep safe. The snow grew denser. The cold deepened. His legs shook with every step, but he kept moving. He was exhaustedutterly exhausted. Still he would not stop. He could not abandon his promise.
Even if nobody else cared, he would protect them. His small frame was failing. His knees gave way, and slowly he collapsed into the drifts, the triplets still clutched tightly. He closed his eyes. The world faded into a white hush.
There, in the frozen park, under the falling snow, four tiny souls waited for someone to notice. The boys eyes fluttered open. The cold bit at his skin. Snowflakes settled on his lashes, and he left them there. All he could think of were the three infants in his arms.
He shifted a little and tried to rise again. His legs trembled violently. His arms, numb and weary, fought to hold the babies tighter. He would not let go. He rose with the last of his strengthone step, then another.
He felt his legs might give way at any moment, but he kept moving. The ground was hard and icebound; a fall could hurt the infants. He could not allow that. He refused to let his fragile bodies touch the freezing earth. The wind tore at his thin coat.
Each step grew heavier than the last. His feet were soaked through. His hands shook. His heart pounded painfully in his chest. He lowered his head and whispered to the babies, Hold on, please, hold on. The infants made weak, feeble sounds, but they were still alive.
