If Nathaniel was a colour, he would be green. Green with the feeling of illness that echoed through his gut as he stared upon a fresh grave. Swinging from the headstone was a crimson necklace, its hypnotising motion luring Nathaniel into a world of regret. Many thoughts crossed his mind; could he have helped? Was there any hope? As quick as a rain drop fell, the thoughts were gone, leaving Nathaniel nothing but an empty shell. Blue eyes, red with sadness, fixed upon the flowers surrounding him.
Lonely. How lonely it must be. New feelings spread through Nathaniel, feelings of guilt, anger but most surprisingly pity. Gazing upon the soil, Nathaniel's sight seemed to travel through it. Through the dirt, through the oak of the coffin lid, until one image crossed his mind. A grotesque, malformed body of a young boy. Once fiery hair belittled to a heap of gingery disarray. Skin once ripe with life now only a pale shell, clinging to the visible bones of the figure. The next rain drop fell and once more his mind wandered.
The man hunched over, placing a flower on the dirt that he had just glanced through so vividly. A shudder crossed his body as his fingers made contact with the earth, a feeling of connection rushing through his figure. The thought of a young boy's lifeless body being so close disturbed him. It was as if the corpse had reached out to him, pulled him under once more. Nathaniel could almost picture a limp hand rising from the ground; weak fingers interlocking with his own as a rotting mouth called for him. What was he thinking? A rain drop splashed against the stem of his flower, causing Nathaniel to draw back and wipe his mind once again.
Nathaniel straightened his jacket, coughing and wheezing on the cold air. With a few deep breaths, the Bigge turned himself, placing a tentative foot forwards as he moved to make off. But for a final time his mind took over, a recap of all his previous thoughts crashing through his mind. And just like before, the chain of emotion was broken by a single drop of water. It ran down his cheek, gathered on his chin and hung there as if to bid him farewell before it plummeted to meet with the ground. Nathaniel took note of this, pulling out a handkerchief before he proceeded. As once more Nathaniel's senses had lied to him. The evening was warm and mild, with no clouds in sight. Not a drop of rain had fell that day and, as Nathaniel brought the handkerchief to his sore eyes, he wiped away a final tear.
@Daekon @Levanta @Onxie @AtticCat
Lonely. How lonely it must be. New feelings spread through Nathaniel, feelings of guilt, anger but most surprisingly pity. Gazing upon the soil, Nathaniel's sight seemed to travel through it. Through the dirt, through the oak of the coffin lid, until one image crossed his mind. A grotesque, malformed body of a young boy. Once fiery hair belittled to a heap of gingery disarray. Skin once ripe with life now only a pale shell, clinging to the visible bones of the figure. The next rain drop fell and once more his mind wandered.
The man hunched over, placing a flower on the dirt that he had just glanced through so vividly. A shudder crossed his body as his fingers made contact with the earth, a feeling of connection rushing through his figure. The thought of a young boy's lifeless body being so close disturbed him. It was as if the corpse had reached out to him, pulled him under once more. Nathaniel could almost picture a limp hand rising from the ground; weak fingers interlocking with his own as a rotting mouth called for him. What was he thinking? A rain drop splashed against the stem of his flower, causing Nathaniel to draw back and wipe his mind once again.
Nathaniel straightened his jacket, coughing and wheezing on the cold air. With a few deep breaths, the Bigge turned himself, placing a tentative foot forwards as he moved to make off. But for a final time his mind took over, a recap of all his previous thoughts crashing through his mind. And just like before, the chain of emotion was broken by a single drop of water. It ran down his cheek, gathered on his chin and hung there as if to bid him farewell before it plummeted to meet with the ground. Nathaniel took note of this, pulling out a handkerchief before he proceeded. As once more Nathaniel's senses had lied to him. The evening was warm and mild, with no clouds in sight. Not a drop of rain had fell that day and, as Nathaniel brought the handkerchief to his sore eyes, he wiped away a final tear.
@Daekon @Levanta @Onxie @AtticCat
