Prompt: Inspired by a song

Song: Photograph

Singer: Annie LeBlanc

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Maybe yes, maybe no
Maybe found my other half
Maybe all we are is a photograph

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A blonde mop of hair poked out of a pile of crisp, autumn leaves followed by a face flushed with laughter and jubilance. The little boy shook his head to get the orange foliage out of his hair. He got on all fours and crunched his way through, crawling out of the pile.

He stood up on his short legs, not bothering to pluck the remaining leaves off of his shoulders. He smiled widely when he spotted his mother up ahead, standing in the middle of the leaf-littered forest path which was canopied by maple trees arising from either sides. She waved, calling him over.

"Lloyd! Come quickly or he'll find us!"

The boy giggled, gesturing at the pile and yelling back. "I'm coming, Mama! I just fell into the leaves!"

His smile dropped when he noticed his mother taking a step back. She glanced at something behind him and slowly clasped a hand on her mouth. Lloyd didn't want to turn around. Instead, he proceeded to bolt towards her. He uttered a weak cry as strong arms wrapped around him and lifted him off the ground.

Lloyd kicked the air and wrestled in an attempt to break free but whoever had caught him had a tight hold. His fussing soon turned into mirthful laughter as the man behind let out a playful roar.

"Muwahaha! Lloyd has been caught!"

Lloyd felt himself being hoisted further up till he was resting on his captor's back with his legs dangling over his shoulders. He tightened his arms around the man's neck and buried his nose in the mass of brown hair.

"Daddy, that's cheating! You run super fast," Lloyd pouted as he was carried over to his mother.

His father patted his knee reassuringly. "Don't worry, buddy. Once I train you to be a fighter, you'll be running faster than me in no time."

Lloyd voiced his happiness in a loud, prolonged "Yay!" and excitedly recited the news to his mother upon reaching where she was.

The brunet lightly tapped his wife's arm. "Tag. You're it, Misako.

"Hey, Lloyd was caught first," she joked, pushing up her glasses and rummaging through her handbag.

"My son's not going to catch lowly peasants like us," the man replied, adopting the air of a proud curator showing off his newest collection of rare items. "That boring job is for you to do."

"Yeah!" Lloyd cheered. "I'm gonna catch bad guys!"

His father glanced up at him with a smirk. "Not just catch. You're gonna teach them a lesson."

"Uh-huh!" Lloyd nodded his head vigorously, his golden locks bouncing on his head.

Misako sighed. "Don't encourage him, Garmadon. I'd rather keep him away from all that fighting nonsense."

She ignored her husband's scoff and finally pulled out a vintage polaroid camera from her overloaded handbag. Lloyd got hyped up at the sight of it, already scrambling down his father's back.

"Ooh, I wanna take a picture! Please, Mama! Can I? Can I? Can I?"

"Okay," Misako chuckled, handing the camera to her son. The blonde took it and raced off the path and into a nearby clearing. The afternoon sun filtered through the opening in the trees and warmed the forest floor carpeted with auburn leaves. 

"Here!" he yelled enthusiastically as his parents approached him slowly, hand in hand.

"Me and Uncle Wu took a picture like this once," Lloyd stated, plopping down onto the ground. "We lied down on our backs and put the camera up."

He displayed what he had described by laying down on the leaves and holding the camera as far away from his face as he could. He gazed up expectantly at his smiling parents, silently pleading them to do the same.

"I think here is perfect," Misako commented looking around. "Seems picturesque."

Her son and husband were already in position, the former helping the latter angle the device. The mother too lay down on the other side of the boy. She tried to take the camera from him but he pulled it away.

"No, I'll do it!" he pouted.

Lloyd raised the camera in the air, the lens pointing down at the three of them. His arms were too short to reach a satisfactory distance but the child was dead set on taking the picture himself.

"I'm pretty sure you and I are gonna end up being cut out," Garmadon muttered to his wife who giggled in return, pinching her son's cheek.

"Okay, ready?" Lloyd grinned a big, wide smile, revealing all his little milk teeth. He tried to click the button but the device was too big for his tiny hands. It eventually slipped out of his grasp and bumped him on the nose.

"Ow!"

Garmadon laughed, retrieving the camera from the blonde's chest. "Let me do it."

Using one hand, the brunet extended the camera through a relatively larger distance. Once making sure everyone was ready (Lloyd kept complaining his nose was very red and looked like a tomato), he pressed the snap button and the device whirred.

Click.

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The october winds blew through the old trees, taking up the autumn shades in a flurry of leaves. Those on the ground snapped and crunched under casual, steady feet.

Holding a polaroid photograph in hand, Lloyd Garmadon emerged through the trees and into the clearing. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, memories replaying themselves in his mind. The breeze tugged at the paper in his hand and he looked down.

Upon the old, wrinkled surface were the happy faces of his parents with a younger version of him in the middle. His nose was tinted a light red but his cheeks flushed a cheerful tone. His mother's hand lay gently on his chest while his head rested on his father's shoulder. The same orange leaves coated the background while golden sunlight danced through their hair.

Still staring at the picture, Lloyd proceeded to lie down, propping one leg over the other's knee. He sighed wistfully and brought the paper closer. He pressed a soft kiss to it before clasping it over his heart.

"If I could wish for one thing," he whispered to the quiet maple woods, looking up at the streams of sunlight. "I would wish for time to turn back."

And he lay there wondering if all the memories his once exuberant family had made were only meant to be wrinkly, old photographs.

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