1 views
Different Darkness 2016-2017 story
TW - death, su*cide
Part 1 :
Flames that Burn
The blur, the light, the smoke, the flames. I'd start from the beginning but there is none. There is nothing left but the fire that's destroying my home. The fire that was started with no cause. I am left sitting here. I don't dare look behind me. I only look down listening to the cracks of the fire, the engines of the planes fighting it and the people yelling at each other in panic. I can hear their conversations, too. .
"I told you to get the hose!" A woman who sounds about thirty-five yells. An older man yells back, "It was too late Clair! By time I found it, it'd be up in flames!" He sounded more annoyed than worried. So did she. I hear a young child crying. Male, about six or seven at most. I want so badly to comfort him but I would regret looking up, even if for a second.
Then, I feel someone's hand touch and pull my wings as if seeing if they were real.
"That hurts." I say, my voice is low and scratchy, "let go." They obey and apologize. Female voice. Early forties. I can hear more children crying. Even some adults are too. The fire must be getting worse. Even through the light it shown, I can tell it's night. I wish I can watch the calming stars, the brightened moon as it slowly makes it's way across the dark, violet, night. If only. .
Part 2 :
Flowers that Stay
It's the last one, the last flower. In this mess of burnt land I find it. Blinded by tears still, however. I sit down, though with on my arms, legs, hair, dress, wings, all around me, I smile. Around me, destruction from an uncaused fire. In front of me, I hold in my hand, the last living nature. I treasure this, as it is very special. It is the last of my home. The last of what I knew well.The survivor of this uncaused fire that burned down every living thing that was unable to escape the pain it brought to the touch of it. This flower has made me happy, even though the tragic cry of the burned and separated people from the flames. I wish to see more life left but there is none. I do not get get it, if one survives the flames, why not more? Why not others? Why was this one little flower the last left? Or was it merely starting to grow as the fire began?
Strange as it is, it is hopeful. It is life. It is color in this darkness the bright flames of the fire brought and left behind. It is mine. I cannot lose it. No, I mustn't lose what has already been lost. What was longing to be found.I just couldn't bear the fact if I ever did. I just can't let go of this.
Part 3 :
Truth that Lies
I am. . sad. My flower, it is dying. I need to keep is alive but I cannot. I cannot bother nature more than I have by bringing this flower to my temporary home.
Temporary home, yes. An ally of nature has offered their home for me to stay in. He has a family. He helped to berid of the fire. He let me have a room to myself, an extra room in the house of unuse. That is where I am at the moment.
I am crying....
Part 1 :
Flames that Burn
The blur, the light, the smoke, the flames. I'd start from the beginning but there is none. There is nothing left but the fire that's destroying my home. The fire that was started with no cause. I am left sitting here. I don't dare look behind me. I only look down listening to the cracks of the fire, the engines of the planes fighting it and the people yelling at each other in panic. I can hear their conversations, too. .
"I told you to get the hose!" A woman who sounds about thirty-five yells. An older man yells back, "It was too late Clair! By time I found it, it'd be up in flames!" He sounded more annoyed than worried. So did she. I hear a young child crying. Male, about six or seven at most. I want so badly to comfort him but I would regret looking up, even if for a second.
Then, I feel someone's hand touch and pull my wings as if seeing if they were real.
"That hurts." I say, my voice is low and scratchy, "let go." They obey and apologize. Female voice. Early forties. I can hear more children crying. Even some adults are too. The fire must be getting worse. Even through the light it shown, I can tell it's night. I wish I can watch the calming stars, the brightened moon as it slowly makes it's way across the dark, violet, night. If only. .
Part 2 :
Flowers that Stay
It's the last one, the last flower. In this mess of burnt land I find it. Blinded by tears still, however. I sit down, though with on my arms, legs, hair, dress, wings, all around me, I smile. Around me, destruction from an uncaused fire. In front of me, I hold in my hand, the last living nature. I treasure this, as it is very special. It is the last of my home. The last of what I knew well.The survivor of this uncaused fire that burned down every living thing that was unable to escape the pain it brought to the touch of it. This flower has made me happy, even though the tragic cry of the burned and separated people from the flames. I wish to see more life left but there is none. I do not get get it, if one survives the flames, why not more? Why not others? Why was this one little flower the last left? Or was it merely starting to grow as the fire began?
Strange as it is, it is hopeful. It is life. It is color in this darkness the bright flames of the fire brought and left behind. It is mine. I cannot lose it. No, I mustn't lose what has already been lost. What was longing to be found.I just couldn't bear the fact if I ever did. I just can't let go of this.
Part 3 :
Truth that Lies
I am. . sad. My flower, it is dying. I need to keep is alive but I cannot. I cannot bother nature more than I have by bringing this flower to my temporary home.
Temporary home, yes. An ally of nature has offered their home for me to stay in. He has a family. He helped to berid of the fire. He let me have a room to myself, an extra room in the house of unuse. That is where I am at the moment.
I am crying....
