These are real people.Sadly 1 cannot interfere.As much as i wanted 2 help i could not. |
Scurry into the darkness. The woods. The fear. The unforgiving father: and the mother: mutely awaiting her fate. Eyes fixed solemly upon the reflection of the Book of Life. Still to veil themselves from death... they yeard for it. Of what will this life bring forth. It is the silence of the night that awakens the memories of the pain. How will this end? Bewildering eyes staring into the stupor. A child. The filth of an unforgiving past clinging to his flesh. His blond hair tangled and wild... like his life. In fear a thought of his mother. The harsh words of ago obliterated by the defencelessness that he finds within himself to liberate her from this cursed night. The dark figure poised within the doorway of the small hovel that they so dearly call thre home. Yet fear drove them to fear... and isolation to thre doom. A wimpering sound from the inside and the infant covers his brilliant blue eyes with his filthy hands. As flesh strikes flesh. He scurries deeper into the darkness. Further away from the bloodcurling screams. Further away from his home. His mother. His father.. A voice... he listens and distinguishes its derivation. Huddled silently against a tree. He waits. He listens. Footsteps drawing nearer and nearer... the darkness closing in on him... faster and faster... closer and closer... The weeping mother now silently in her cel, pending the destiny that awaits her, should the child not be found... The Book of Life opened and read. For what life will this bring forth... she wonders in the stillness? Rushing through the darkness. A scream. A child. Another. Another... silence... the night becomes sinister and ashen... A child. Into the hovel: Into the mothers embrace. A father has left... A mother. A child. Weeps. |