Loss

[Burt]

Jonathan lay trembling, alone and broken in the darkness. He had slept an hour, maybe a few, sprawled on the floor in the oppressive gloom. The sleeping nightmares were no kinder than the waking one. He dreamt of her – a disapproving frown, a begrudging smile – it would have made him happy before but now it filled him with sorrow and dread.

The blackness was tranquil. Silent and invisible and without prejudice. Yet something malevolent lurked in the distant corner of the room. He could not see it but he felt its cold presence. When he closed his eyes he pushed aside the shadows and he imagined its lifeless repose. Matted yellow hair, discoloured sanguine lips, pallid rotting flesh – but worse than all that was the vacant, dead pupils – staring at him from the distance, cutting through the melancholy darkness, pleading for life.

A lump caught in Jonathan's throat. His eyes stung. There were no more tears; they were exhausted. In his mind he could picture the room: the thing at the other end, the empty bottles stinking of alcohol strewn across the floorboards, the bloodied sheets on the bed where there had been life – and now was death. And he sat, alone and scared - devoid of hope and love and joy that once filled his soul. Once not so long ago – an hour, maybe a few. Now there was only this room and the thing that lurked in the darkness, judging him.

Dishevelled and tear-stained, Jonathan clawed at the ground with slender fingers, pulling himself along the wooden floor, ignoring the piercing splinters. He was weak - from grief or otherwise he did not care. His legs quivered, mocking his effort. He wasn't fit to walk. He barely deserved to crawl. He pulled himself towards the corner of the room, his head hung low. Shadows caressed his pale countenance, whispering wicked truths with a chill touch against his ear. The darkness tugged at his back, imploring – begging him not to confront his malefactor and his love.

After minutes or hours he knelt at its side hunched over in despair. He clutched as its soft, hollow skin and grasped a hand, squeezing tightly. Hoping to bring it comfort, or pain, or any feeling at all. There was nothing. It lay still, staring into the darkness. It was dead. It had been a person - a woman - but now it was only a cadaver of bone and flesh, and loss.

He wept again. It would not be the last time. He knelt beside the body of the woman he had loved, cradling her feebly in his arms. Jonathan opened his mouth and hoarsely he whispered into the darkness, though nobody would hear him.

“I miss you Madeleine.”

[Blindhamsterman]

[kid]

I can't read this.
I hate you all.
I hate you burt.
I hate paazin.
and I hate CD for making me help her DM this.
you all suck.

[Heero]

I love you, Burt.

[dergon darkhelm]

Well written....

[Tegid]

A delicious read.