His poppy hair was glowing in the snowy night. Car lights illuminating his fragile silhouette, seconds before driving away. Big sky Montana born and raised he always said, like it was a bad thing. He hated this town and how secluded it was. Only a couple hundred , not even that, actually live here. If you were murdered no one would find your body until the nest ski season. It was November two days before Thanksgiving (Thanksgiving was never his favorite holiday) and he was, sitting on the side of a mountain highway, looking at the endless tree tops. He had thought of jumping. Breath icy in the wind, he moved closer to the edge. The stars were at a stand still, glaring down on him. He wondered  if they were possibly judging him. Tiny snowflakes drizzled from the clouds, creating a snow flurry. His face porcelain from only living in the winter, skin as dry as the snow. Emerald eyes swollen from silk tears. Just shy of 18, and already he had felt he had lived up to his potential. Liam was convinced he had already peaked in high school. He screamed into the vacant alps, knowing that no one was going to hear him. Liam was tired of his life and what it had to offer. Thinking this he jumped off the side of the mountain into the piles of fresh snow 100 feet below. Only to be seen again when the snow melted in the spring. At that point he had been missing for months, no one believed they would ever find Liam. Construction workers found him lying face first into the dirt. His hair that was once poppy orange was now covered in red.