(A/N): If you could say one thousand ways
To laugh and sin and cry,
Then I could say one million ways -
One million ways to die.
Do those who lurk beyond the grave
Cry o'er the way they passed?
I can tell you, friends and foes -
They will not be the last.
The spirits of pure emptiness
That lurk inside my mind
Are all the ghosts that experienced
One million ways they could have died.
One Million Ways To Die by Me
TURN TO STONE
I'm running through the garden, fleeing the Other Father on his wild praying-mantis-shaped all-in-one lawn machine. Or, really, what was left of both of them.
I'm backing up over the bridge. I'm hoping that this will work, what with the way the machine has been stabbing at me.
I'm in luck. The machine, with the pumpkin-like Other Father struggling against the controls, stabbed through the soft wood of the bridge, creating a hole large enough for the thing to fall through.
The Other Father breaks free of the hands that are binding him to pass me the end of the stick-shift. But when that happens, I lean just a bit too far over the edge.
Then I follow him into the water. He's sinking a lot faster than I am, with the praying-mantis machine tied to him. I try to swim, but I find that a thin layer of... ice?... has already covered the whole surface, and it's only growing thicker.
I can't lose the ghost's eye. I can't. I hang on to it with my life, even as it drains me of it.
And so, as I drown in the water beneath the stone that has formed on top of it, I wish that I could just turn to stone.
But I'm not in luck.
Death chooses to take its time, and then it drags me into the dark places, where I remain until the end of time.
(A/N): Don't you like depressing things? I know I do!
For those of you who are looking for... more information is a good word... take a look through my story list... hehehe...