I'll Show You, Here and Now
07-26-2014, 12:54 PM
The Kids Aren't Alright - The Offspring.
The brute stood atop the ice. Standing upright on the icy tip, nothing below him but ice and farther out was only the ocean. His shoulders sagged under the massive weight that he carried on his heart and mind. They sat with no tension in them. All that tension was in his chest, like a fire that was confused and uncertain. His tail didn't sway behind him but rather just hung from his rump limp and lifeless. His ears stood up on his skull, but more in a manor of confusion than alertness. And his face, perhaps his face was the most difficult part of all. His lips where a lifeless line across his face betraying no emotion to speak of, and finally, there where is eyes. Two dull yellow orbs looked out from this icy tip. They looked out at the water beyond and contained within them nothing. It was a difficult thing to digest, what this wolf looked like, but if it could be discribed with a single word, it was that all at once he just looked Empty. This was the Cathedral Point. The tip of Alacritis. In a way, it was like the edge of the world. The sudden and abrupt stop. The point from which it was possible to go no further. It struck something primal inside the wolf as he stood there. As hollow as he looked, this appearance was merely to walls built up around everything that tore around at the inside of him like a raging storm. Anger ripped at the inside of him like a legion of panicked voices crying for some kind of explanation that didn't exist. This Cathedral Point was much like the life of the wolf who's actions had been part of turning Sound into what he was now. A world filled with beauty and promise, lush fields and green forests, all colminating to a sudden and cold steel Stop. And it was cold here. But perhaps, it was colder inside the wolf's heart the moment. This was one of those dangerous moments where he'd allowed the box that he kept the tattered and crumpled soul that was his sheltered in. Only this time he'd slipped up and the box had flown all the way open and feelings that he wasn't used to, feelings that scared him and hurt him came pouring out all over the ground around him. It was leaving him drowning in himself, just struggling with all his might to swim down and find that box and force it shut again. It all feel down on this one word. It was a cold and hard and unforgiving word. A word that was perhaps the very definition of pain, the most painful word of any language of this wide and far and cold and unforgiving world. Why? Why where such actions necessary? Why, when the life had held so much promise, did it have to end, and end so abruptly and with so little warning? No, Little was the wrong word. It had ended with No warning. And for what reason? That was the hardest part. There wasn't a reason. There wasn't a damn thing about it to be understood. There was no clarity to be had here. There was only the last crash, and the unforgiving silence. And that silence was. It was just so unforgiving. It offered nothing but the cold hard fact that a life was no more and that the world was one light short. And nothing more. No explanations. Just what you had to live with for the rest of your life. That was it. That was all you got from the silence. And behind the confusion was the anger. Anger like a tidal wave that crashed down on everything that you where. Anger that could not be satisfied. It was that powerful. Powerful enough to crash down on the darkness of the world and savagely rip and tear into it's flesh and spill it's blood for all to see and even then, still not be satisfied. Because even after the spots where wiped away, that which had inhabited the space could not be replaced. As the Silence has already indicated, it was gone. The space would remain empty and no amount of anger and violence could change that. What had once been light and warmth and life was now just a cold and empty void with no owner. An empty space for which there was no replacement. And then there was the anger for the one in particular. There was nothing more sore then realizing you where angry with someone you'd called a friend. But how could you when what they'd done had been wrong. It wasn't up to you. You didn't get to decide when it was your time to clock out. That was not Your Choice to make. This. This is what pain was. It dug into the wolf. The battle to close the box was one he was quickly loosing and he knew it. There where supposed to be several different emotions to grief, so why was it that only these two tore into him life this. Confusion and anger, it was a most dangerous cocktail. It dug into him and slowly his defenses pealed away. That line that had been emotionless started to pull back. Those empty eyes at once let on fire with war as tears began to fall. His snout scrunched together as a ruthless snarl formed on what was supposed to be an empty mask. There was nothing there in that space anymore. NOTHING! He couldn't contain the music anymore, it tore up his throat as his eyes squeezed closed and his maw shot skyward, the words erupting from him as the Sound of the Blood Painted Canvas graced the world for the first time in a long time. "Chances Thrown! Nothing's Free! Longing For! Used To Be! Still It's Hard! Hard to See! Fragile Lives! Shattered Dreams!. Three times his chores met the sky as that tattered soul thrashed about. And then, he couldn't keep it up anymore. His body went rigid with tension and his neck bristled as his maw fell, now aimed at the ground before him. Snarl still in place and eyes still shut tight, he cried. Cried in pain as he fought to close that box again. Why, Adam? Just Why? |
Current time: 11-23-2024, 04:21 AM
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