| Nevermore |
| By k1G |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
That tree. That hateful tree, and of all of it's sickly branches, that one was the worst. From that branch they had hung his cute little swing, the seat fashioned from rough cut pine planks, chafing at his skin, pushing splinters deep into his flesh. He hated it, the nauseating heaving back and forth, but he had smiled and laughed to please them, but deep down he suspected they knew it made him ill, and did it all the same. |
 |
|
He wanted to stop at the branch, to enjoy the site of the mutilated tree, weeping sap, broken, but he was unable to. |
 |
|
It was hard work, and despite the way the cold February air tore at his tired lung, despite the way his sweat chilled his spine as it ran down his neck, despite the way his back and knees creaked and groaned as he cut and pulled, slashed and tore, he smiled. |
 |
|
And so it was done. It burned, and in turn they burned, all they had been and all they had done reduced to just so much ash and gas...... |
|
|
|
List all stories
|
|
|
