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Rated: 13+ · Other · Fanfiction · #1592441
At school I read Araby by James Joyce, and loved it, enjoy.
When the last light turned off, I was alone embraced by the darkness of night in the middle of the bazaar. There was a battle of feelings inside of me and in that numb state when you can't decide what to do and you are confused, I started to walk.

I got to the end of the street and there was nowhere else to go. I turned around only to realize how lost I was. Out of nowhere a wicked old man appeared. He would not talk to me at first. He stood there staring at me for a while and when he spoke the little hairs in my whole body stood up; suddenly I was cold.

He said- I know you - I laughed shortly and humorless and said - Good, because I don't know myself anymore - . He played with his beard for a minute like if he were thinking and said - You know... if you want I can help you, we can make a deal - , - No thanks - I said - I don't know you, it's late and I have to go back home - .

I turned around to leave but what he said made me stop. - Do you love her? - I look hardly at him and said - Do I love her?! No!!!I've gone through all of <this> just for the heck of it - . He laughed loud and said - OK boy, no need to get sarcastic. If I am not mistaken you wanted a gift for her, something that represents your love, right? - Yes - I said simply.

He reached inside of his pocket and showed me a tiny stone so bright that it almost blinded me. I asked if it was a piece of the moon and he laughed at me again. I tried to touch it but he put it back where it was. - You show me such a beautiful thing but wont even let me touch it?! -.

He didn't laugh this time. He looked as serious as a priest on Sunday morning, and put a face that let me know he was about to start a lecture. I rolled my eyes and he shoot me a reprehensible look.

He said - most things in life are like this stone. You are lucky if you, at least, get to see them.

This stone represents the love between me and the beautiful wife I once had. It would be a regular rock if it weren't for the conjure cast upon it.

I wished for our love to last forever, I said I'd lose my own soul in the name of our love, and now that she has died, I still need to hang out around the earth to keep our love alive or else...This is what happens when you play with the occult, if you aren't careful you may even lose yourself.-

I laughed at his fantastic story and said - Well if that's the worse that can happen to me, I am good, I lost myself the day I saw her- . - So you'd go that far for this 'love'?- he said in surprise. - You went all the way through it, didn't you? - I said.

He sighed relief and said - OK , what do you want to give her as a present? What represents your love?- . - My heart - , I said simply, and after the last sound came out of my mouth his words started to echo in my head.

- Your heart? - he said with a wicked smile - Deal - and disappeared. I fell on my knees to the ground and rolled in pain with my eyes closed. Some time passed and then the pain was gone.

I opened my eyes, got up, and started to walk, now, knowing exactly where my feet were leading me.

I got to the old house and called her name, her sweet name. The night was beautiful, and as I looked at the moon remembering vaguely something about a wicked old man and a stone, she opened the door.

She looked like an angel in her white nightgown. I looked at her in the eyes, oh! those beautiful, dark eyes, bright and watery now. I took both of her hands, reached inside of my pocket, put my heart in them...and died.

-This is the story of how I died for love, of how I died for giving my heart.-
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