A Life for the Living

"Do not pity the dead, pity the living and above all… those who live without love."

It’s Just a Story

We walk down a path in the forest. Tall trees cover the evident twilight as him and I walk down this path. There is silence between us but the rustling of the leaves makes it seem less awkward. The chill in the air tells me to speak first “Here take my sweater. You look cold, I have a jacket under anyways.” But then again he always looked cold, skin pale and white, eyes frozen in time and in color, his body heat or lack there of. He took the sweater from me and placed it precariously upon his shoulders and there was a long walk of silence before he spoke. “You don’t need to do this you know. I can live perfectly by myself.” “We both know you can’t. Plus there is nothing left for me here anymore.” I responded.We said nothing more until the moon rose higher to make twilight more evident. “I won’t let you to.” He said “This is my choice, I brought you into this world and now I must pay the consequences.” I said bluntly. “I hope you know I am great full for all of this.” I did not respond to him for this was insincere, he felt absolutely nothing for he was, a living dead. Anyway I wasent doing this for him. I was doing this for his family, for I had brought him back from death and they being forever great full welcomed me into their home. How could I let him perish? But it was not for them in the beginning. I being an only child, felt the lonely sting that came with it and as the resources were available to me, I thought it time for me to fashion myself a sibling by means of necromancy. But there was an uncalled for consequence that came with this, neither can live while the other survives.

As twilight came to a near close, we came upon a circle made from all the elements and placed where the sun and the moon could shine upon it. “Come.” I said “It’s time.” He felt nothing, no remorse, no sadness, nothing, for he was… frozen. I took a stick from the ground that was close to breaking but was still attached by small pieces of bark. He grabbed one side and I the other and as we did the circle caught fire, wind blew in a circular motion around us, and the ground beneath us became moist. After a while, when the wind blew the fire out, the ground shook violently, knocking us to our feet and cracking in a straight line between us. The stick then finally broke and one piece fell to each side. The ritual was complete and soon color flowed into his skin and gave him life, his eyes took shape and a color not so different that what it had been before. But he still looked sickly and malnourished. We both stood up and grabbed our pieces of the stick. He took of my jacket and made his way towards me. But as he crossed the line to take my embrace, the sun set closed twilight and I was no longer there, moved to another world. Realizing what had just happend, his heart melted and he began to weep. So now, everyday durring twilight he waits for me at that place – calling for me while holding his end of the stick- but I don’t show up. I am glad to be away from that monstrous world, from him. But even though he dosent see me, I still see him, a painful reminder I could no longer face. So I grabbed the two pieces of the stick, mended it so that they were together just slightly, and tossed it to the far side of the earth. This would sever the connection between us and I would never see him again. For no matter how much his heart melts… it is still ice.


Broken Stick


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