Prompts: Floating, torn
)O(
Tom should have asked the Grey Lady about death.
It was a subject constantly on his mind when he saw her floating towards him, no matter how he tried to think instead of her mother's diadem. He could not see beyond her insubstantiality, her nature as a creature trapped between his world and the next, the unknown one that was meant to come after death.
There were questions he ached to ask her, questions about the nature of death that she could answer in ways no living person could. She should have been the perfect opportunity to learn about it. A boy less proud than he would not have hesitated, would have begged her for knowledge of what happened after death to alleviate the terrible unknown.
But Tom could not bring himself to ask. He knew that Helena would have given all the answers she could if he only demanded them of her, for she was free with information as long as he continued to provide her with a semblance of a sympathetic ear. And yet he hesitated still, for he was torn between wanting to know, and some deep and primal fear that what she said would only frighten him away further. If she spoke of Hellfire, or of a great and sucking void that stripped away all ego – both of which he feared after death – then he would only have his nightmare confirmed, and be no closer to avoiding it.
He did not ordinarily condone living in ignorance, but he feared tumbling into madness if he learned that he really was undeniably right about what happened after death.
)O(
Fin