New Chapter “You Found Me Lying On the Floor”
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The rain fell. It was gray. The same color as the silver clouds. They showered down the acid rains, and gave us heart break and sorrow. The despair was too much for one to bear as the days past and the fragile soul burns out. The grave tomb has visitors. It’s surrounded by mourners and the victim’s husband, her lover. He cries inside louder than anyone else could ever try too. The mourners leave, the husband stays. His mind decays by the tombstone. Time passes. He moves on, though his soul stays with his love. His body continues to move unintentional. As he soon regrets, he falls into the gray puddle and splashes silver liquid everywhere.
He lays in the water motionless. Soon people come and surround him. They stare and mummer and point at his current and lifeless body but pay no help to him. Soon they left and didn’t take anymore notice on him. He laid there. Motionless, lifeless. Not wanting to live anymore he refuses to move from the damp water as it slowly takes him from this world. He almost left. He almost disappeared. Until he saw someone. Someone who was staring at him all day. Someone who walked up to him and knelt near him. Her smile was heavenly. Her eyes were beautiful. She was an angel. She left food for him. Then she rose to her feet and left.
His eyes became colored. He sat up and watched her leave. He stared at her she left. Then he stared at the food. A purpose, a way, a reason to live. He ate happily. Was it happiness? No. It was sorrow and regret. He was jealous those so beautiful could still exist. His wife was dead. Nothing should look beautiful. Yet…her looks still caught his eye. He felt wrangled in a bed of sorrow and a morning of love. He sat still against the wall. Waiting for tomorrow, the next day, he will see her again.
Next Hour; The Day before Love
He sat against the wall. The millions of people who walked by his body. He glared at his feet. The claws that were his hands flinched and twitched furiously. He was in his Day without Love. He couldn’t stand it; it was eating away at him from inside his dormant body. He wanted to be blessed once more, then he could die peacefully he wanted to leave the world without regret. He was about to decide. A way of death. A suicide. He reveled the idea, and nursed the plan. Then out of nowhere…a giggle. It bears light and serenity. He turns with hope and his wish is ensured. It was her again, just a little late.
“I found you~!”
He stares. Without a word. He responds.
“You found me.”
Her eyes widen and she giggles more. She walks over and kneels down near him once again. She smiles at him and his mind reaches enlightenment. He looks into her eyes and sees heaven once more. Surely this girl was a lost angel who fell from heaven and lost her way, he was willing to guide her-…wait. What? The thoughts in his mind scrambled and thrilled about sending him into misjudgment and indecision. Was he to trust this new light before him? Or was he to leave her be? He needed the answer, no, craved the answer. Desired it. She stood. Smiled down at him and smiled as she reached her hand out towards him. He stared at her hand in question and she finally responded.
“Come with me.”
He was finally answered. Was it what he wished for though? What he solely desired? He slowly reached out towards her hand and breathing taking up speed. He took it. The chance he wanted so hard was in his grasp. She helped him to his feet and led him to a manor of secrets. A place of oblivion was it? Or a home of tranquility? It will come out bold and with a shine when they arrive.
Do we forget; Ones who Disappear without Reason
The gates to nirvana, or the wheel of destiny. Into the play she led on, lead on angel, he arrives at her estate. Reluctance full of unconsciousness but she held his hand tightly. She led him through the maze. He found the one who can see through the murk of despair. The gates were opened, where was this? The roses and tulips glowed with light, the trees shined with life, the nectar from the sunflowers sprinkled into the air. It was Heaven from whence she came. Her estate, her manor. She refused to let him stare into the light though, and led him into the palace of nothing to bliss. Until then, there was black, out. Like a light.
In his mind, his dreams, an audience he submits many requests. He sees her, his past lover. Static. It can’t be so. He is in shock until she speaks in mourning. It’s time.
“…to let go.”
He wakes. In a bed. He’s in his week, his mind is numb, his body is no longer in any pain. He sits up, cast it all, a glance across the room. He doesn’t want it, deserve it, favors it. But he has it, a room to call his own? Where is he…then he is enlightened. This is the palace, the manor of bliss and heaven. The angel had led him here. The door knob creaks, he falls back, head hair stretching out reaching for the ceiling until it hits the mattress. The door opens. It is the angels guard, her servant, her butler. The green one looks over at us. Walks over and taps the wood near us.
“Sir. The lady requests your awakening.”
Lady…angel. That’s what it is. No. Not an ‘it’, but she. Correct yourself. Look up. He sits up once more feigning awakening. He was already woken. The one wore clothing. Just like the angel. What is this? But without another glance, he looks down at his paws, his fangs in his mouth bared in secret. ‘Clothing. Bah.’ So calls his thought, he needs no cloth around fur covering his body. He isn’t human, he hates humans, he hates them. Anger. It fills his mind.
“She also requests you wear this.”
Oh. What? What is it!? Calm. The angel is our world now. Stay calm. It’ probably not pronging you to anger anyway…oh. A type of black. Shirt? It’s long sleeved. Buttoned down and buttoned up. There…shut up. We do not care how we look. No comments. Nothing.
“You look rather nice.”
…Fine. Let us go. He is the butler, not the owner. He follows him, we are led by him. Then we can see a light. It shines bright…it is a balcony. It extends out of the lunar beauty who stands in a gorgeous dress. Our mind enters shock. What is this? Our heart is filled of insecurity, pain, regret. W-We…should have worn something better. By the holy gods, we should have worn something better. The butler bows to the both of us. We do not see, we are staring at the elegant angel who has ascended to enchanting goddess. He would leave us and the goddess but she refuses and asks him to stay. He did stay. After argument. Something about not deserving to stay long in a presence such as hers.
…How true he is. She looks at him again. He tugs lightly on his given black button-shirt. White and red. Now with black. The butler pours tea for us. The angel does not take her eyes off of the broken man. He looks down on his tea. He’s lifeless once more. Stare into the brown liquid. It smells like…cinnamon? In tea? Apparently…that exists. She offers some to the butler. More argument. He gives in, and takes a few sips. Now for the broken one, referred to as ‘us’. She wants, requests him to drink.
“Please, why don’t you have a drink as well?”
“…”
“I-I made it myself…”
Oh. That’s different. He assumes. But with struggle he moves his paw. Around the handle. It’s embodied with gold, and trimmed with crystal. How expensive this cup looks. Right across from it, is another. A simple cup. He pours it into the plain cup and switches to its round body. This one is worth nothing, and it has no handle. He takes a sip. This tastes better than it would in an expensive one. You force a small smile. It’s such a grand taste, she can do anything. More sipping. Until it is gone. He frowns. She giggles in delight.
“Don’t worry, please don’t! I made a lot just in case.”
He looks up into her eyes. She blinks and looks away. A blush.
The rain fell. It was gray. The same color as the silver clouds. They showered down the acid rains, and gave us heart break and sorrow. The despair was too much for one to bear as the days past and the fragile soul burns out. The grave tomb has visitors. It’s surrounded by mourners and the victim’s husband, her lover. He cries inside louder than anyone else could ever try too. The mourners leave, the husband stays. His mind decays by the tombstone. Time passes. He moves on, though his soul stays with his love. His body continues to move unintentional. As he soon regrets, he falls into the gray puddle and splashes silver liquid everywhere.
He lays in the water motionless. Soon people come and surround him. They stare and mummer and point at his current and lifeless body but pay no help to him. Soon they left and didn’t take anymore notice on him. He laid there. Motionless, lifeless. Not wanting to live anymore he refuses to move from the damp water as it slowly takes him from this world. He almost left. He almost disappeared. Until he saw someone. Someone who was staring at him all day. Someone who walked up to him and knelt near him. Her smile was heavenly. Her eyes were beautiful. She was an angel. She left food for him. Then she rose to her feet and left.
His eyes became colored. He sat up and watched her leave. He stared at her she left. Then he stared at the food. A purpose, a way, a reason to live. He ate happily. Was it happiness? No. It was sorrow and regret. He was jealous those so beautiful could still exist. His wife was dead. Nothing should look beautiful. Yet…her looks still caught his eye. He felt wrangled in a bed of sorrow and a morning of love. He sat still against the wall. Waiting for tomorrow, the next day, he will see her again.
Next Hour; The Day before Love
He sat against the wall. The millions of people who walked by his body. He glared at his feet. The claws that were his hands flinched and twitched furiously. He was in his Day without Love. He couldn’t stand it; it was eating away at him from inside his dormant body. He wanted to be blessed once more, then he could die peacefully he wanted to leave the world without regret. He was about to decide. A way of death. A suicide. He reveled the idea, and nursed the plan. Then out of nowhere…a giggle. It bears light and serenity. He turns with hope and his wish is ensured. It was her again, just a little late.
“I found you~!”
He stares. Without a word. He responds.
“You found me.”
Her eyes widen and she giggles more. She walks over and kneels down near him once again. She smiles at him and his mind reaches enlightenment. He looks into her eyes and sees heaven once more. Surely this girl was a lost angel who fell from heaven and lost her way, he was willing to guide her-…wait. What? The thoughts in his mind scrambled and thrilled about sending him into misjudgment and indecision. Was he to trust this new light before him? Or was he to leave her be? He needed the answer, no, craved the answer. Desired it. She stood. Smiled down at him and smiled as she reached her hand out towards him. He stared at her hand in question and she finally responded.
“Come with me.”
He was finally answered. Was it what he wished for though? What he solely desired? He slowly reached out towards her hand and breathing taking up speed. He took it. The chance he wanted so hard was in his grasp. She helped him to his feet and led him to a manor of secrets. A place of oblivion was it? Or a home of tranquility? It will come out bold and with a shine when they arrive.
Do we forget; Ones who Disappear without Reason
The gates to nirvana, or the wheel of destiny. Into the play she led on, lead on angel, he arrives at her estate. Reluctance full of unconsciousness but she held his hand tightly. She led him through the maze. He found the one who can see through the murk of despair. The gates were opened, where was this? The roses and tulips glowed with light, the trees shined with life, the nectar from the sunflowers sprinkled into the air. It was Heaven from whence she came. Her estate, her manor. She refused to let him stare into the light though, and led him into the palace of nothing to bliss. Until then, there was black, out. Like a light.
In his mind, his dreams, an audience he submits many requests. He sees her, his past lover. Static. It can’t be so. He is in shock until she speaks in mourning. It’s time.
“…to let go.”
He wakes. In a bed. He’s in his week, his mind is numb, his body is no longer in any pain. He sits up, cast it all, a glance across the room. He doesn’t want it, deserve it, favors it. But he has it, a room to call his own? Where is he…then he is enlightened. This is the palace, the manor of bliss and heaven. The angel had led him here. The door knob creaks, he falls back, head hair stretching out reaching for the ceiling until it hits the mattress. The door opens. It is the angels guard, her servant, her butler. The green one looks over at us. Walks over and taps the wood near us.
“Sir. The lady requests your awakening.”
Lady…angel. That’s what it is. No. Not an ‘it’, but she. Correct yourself. Look up. He sits up once more feigning awakening. He was already woken. The one wore clothing. Just like the angel. What is this? But without another glance, he looks down at his paws, his fangs in his mouth bared in secret. ‘Clothing. Bah.’ So calls his thought, he needs no cloth around fur covering his body. He isn’t human, he hates humans, he hates them. Anger. It fills his mind.
“She also requests you wear this.”
Oh. What? What is it!? Calm. The angel is our world now. Stay calm. It’ probably not pronging you to anger anyway…oh. A type of black. Shirt? It’s long sleeved. Buttoned down and buttoned up. There…shut up. We do not care how we look. No comments. Nothing.
“You look rather nice.”
…Fine. Let us go. He is the butler, not the owner. He follows him, we are led by him. Then we can see a light. It shines bright…it is a balcony. It extends out of the lunar beauty who stands in a gorgeous dress. Our mind enters shock. What is this? Our heart is filled of insecurity, pain, regret. W-We…should have worn something better. By the holy gods, we should have worn something better. The butler bows to the both of us. We do not see, we are staring at the elegant angel who has ascended to enchanting goddess. He would leave us and the goddess but she refuses and asks him to stay. He did stay. After argument. Something about not deserving to stay long in a presence such as hers.
…How true he is. She looks at him again. He tugs lightly on his given black button-shirt. White and red. Now with black. The butler pours tea for us. The angel does not take her eyes off of the broken man. He looks down on his tea. He’s lifeless once more. Stare into the brown liquid. It smells like…cinnamon? In tea? Apparently…that exists. She offers some to the butler. More argument. He gives in, and takes a few sips. Now for the broken one, referred to as ‘us’. She wants, requests him to drink.
“Please, why don’t you have a drink as well?”
“…”
“I-I made it myself…”
Oh. That’s different. He assumes. But with struggle he moves his paw. Around the handle. It’s embodied with gold, and trimmed with crystal. How expensive this cup looks. Right across from it, is another. A simple cup. He pours it into the plain cup and switches to its round body. This one is worth nothing, and it has no handle. He takes a sip. This tastes better than it would in an expensive one. You force a small smile. It’s such a grand taste, she can do anything. More sipping. Until it is gone. He frowns. She giggles in delight.
“Don’t worry, please don’t! I made a lot just in case.”
He looks up into her eyes. She blinks and looks away. A blush.