"Painting"
by: Ellis McDohl
October 17, 2002 (9:25 am)
October 17, 2002 (10:09 am)
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me.
author's notes:
Hello! It's a while since I wrote something. I hope this wouldn't be bad. Maybe it's because of the semester break... If it's bad, it's okay if you flame me. Just please easy on me. Other than that, I hope you enjoy.
"Painting"
by: Ellis McDohl
A painting hung on the ancient walls of the old castle. It made only a bit of different to the others now there to decorate the great halls but guests often stopped for a moment to look at that painting of two boys and girls.
It was a clear picture of innocence and belonging of long ago. Childish laughter could once be heard from those unmoving lips and bright sparkles lighting those young eyes. The picture was of some interest some would say. Even though sometimes, guests have found it odd that the king would allow this painting to stay there.
It was a beautiful painting full of laughter of good days long gone. Perhaps it reminded the king of past glories. And perhaps past pains as well.
The first boy was brown haired, brushed back with bright brown eyes. Thin lips that grinned and face as young as day. The boy gave a strange sort of reminiscent sparkle of the earth and autumn. Slightly sad and happy at the same time. Sad times forgotten. If one would look closely, it would be the king in his younger days. Back before the evil times fell upon them. His hand rested on the girl sitting on the chair in front of him.
The girl was young too. The same brown eyes and hair only longer and gentle smile spread on her lips. The king would sigh when he saw this girl for this was one of the departed, one who had gone off to heaven before him. He would never again hear her speak of things that amused her and of her troubles. She would never again be seen or held.
Beside this girl was another girl. Long blond hair tied up behind her, gentle blue eyes shinning with amusement. She was a true lady, tender and true. The king would go to her sometimes just to watch her. She was always so affectionate about things, warm and compassionate upon the less fortunate. She's sometimes lonely but always hides it well for the sake of her brother whom she loved more than the world about her.
The last was a boy, standing behind the blond girl. Same blond hair, but with green eyes. He smiled only slightly. A slight curve on his pale lips. He was paler than the others though he looked as fit as a knight. but he had a quiet aura around him. slightly sad emerald eyes that foretold of sad days to come. But he remained smiling.
He always smiled. The last time the king saw him, he was still smiling that quiet smile of long ago. The king would look pained when he looked at that boy. The boy now a heretic. The boy that had died. The boy that he would never again see with that quiet, sad, knowing smile.
And the king would ask a simple question. Do you hate me? As if the painting in the wall would answer. It remained motionless, eyes still fixed on him. Not blaming him for anything. When people would see the king looking so reminiscently at this boy, they would ask what was wrong. And he would answer there was nothing wrong.
As if there really wasn't anything wrong with it or him or them.
But there is something wrong with you, Delita. The boy in the painting used to say to him. You wouldn't act that way if there wasn't anything wrong.
And the king would laugh. Because that boy could see unseen things. He could see his heart. He could see his soul. Even now that they're long gone, this painting on the wall reminded him of these unseen things that he'd forgotten for a moment and remembered after the bloodbath. It reminded him of words that were needed to told that are now left unspoken forever.
Will you forgive me? The king would ask again to the boy in painting on the wall.
Then the king would leave and go to attend some meeting of oddities that aren't so odd at all. The meeting would be with nobles and advisers and high priests would discuss of needs and wants. It would be a little bit of this and that and other things. Then at the end of the day, he would go back to his chambers and rest.
The king would think before sleep claimed him that he would get his answers someday. He didn't know soon or late it would be but he was willing to wait a thousand years to get answers.
He was willing to wait forever to hear the dear ones' sweet laughter again and to see the quiet, knowing smile of the boy in the painting that hung on the wall.
END
by: Ellis McDohl
October 17, 2002 (9:25 am)
October 17, 2002 (10:09 am)
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me.
author's notes:
Hello! It's a while since I wrote something. I hope this wouldn't be bad. Maybe it's because of the semester break... If it's bad, it's okay if you flame me. Just please easy on me. Other than that, I hope you enjoy.
"Painting"
by: Ellis McDohl
A painting hung on the ancient walls of the old castle. It made only a bit of different to the others now there to decorate the great halls but guests often stopped for a moment to look at that painting of two boys and girls.
It was a clear picture of innocence and belonging of long ago. Childish laughter could once be heard from those unmoving lips and bright sparkles lighting those young eyes. The picture was of some interest some would say. Even though sometimes, guests have found it odd that the king would allow this painting to stay there.
It was a beautiful painting full of laughter of good days long gone. Perhaps it reminded the king of past glories. And perhaps past pains as well.
The first boy was brown haired, brushed back with bright brown eyes. Thin lips that grinned and face as young as day. The boy gave a strange sort of reminiscent sparkle of the earth and autumn. Slightly sad and happy at the same time. Sad times forgotten. If one would look closely, it would be the king in his younger days. Back before the evil times fell upon them. His hand rested on the girl sitting on the chair in front of him.
The girl was young too. The same brown eyes and hair only longer and gentle smile spread on her lips. The king would sigh when he saw this girl for this was one of the departed, one who had gone off to heaven before him. He would never again hear her speak of things that amused her and of her troubles. She would never again be seen or held.
Beside this girl was another girl. Long blond hair tied up behind her, gentle blue eyes shinning with amusement. She was a true lady, tender and true. The king would go to her sometimes just to watch her. She was always so affectionate about things, warm and compassionate upon the less fortunate. She's sometimes lonely but always hides it well for the sake of her brother whom she loved more than the world about her.
The last was a boy, standing behind the blond girl. Same blond hair, but with green eyes. He smiled only slightly. A slight curve on his pale lips. He was paler than the others though he looked as fit as a knight. but he had a quiet aura around him. slightly sad emerald eyes that foretold of sad days to come. But he remained smiling.
He always smiled. The last time the king saw him, he was still smiling that quiet smile of long ago. The king would look pained when he looked at that boy. The boy now a heretic. The boy that had died. The boy that he would never again see with that quiet, sad, knowing smile.
And the king would ask a simple question. Do you hate me? As if the painting in the wall would answer. It remained motionless, eyes still fixed on him. Not blaming him for anything. When people would see the king looking so reminiscently at this boy, they would ask what was wrong. And he would answer there was nothing wrong.
As if there really wasn't anything wrong with it or him or them.
But there is something wrong with you, Delita. The boy in the painting used to say to him. You wouldn't act that way if there wasn't anything wrong.
And the king would laugh. Because that boy could see unseen things. He could see his heart. He could see his soul. Even now that they're long gone, this painting on the wall reminded him of these unseen things that he'd forgotten for a moment and remembered after the bloodbath. It reminded him of words that were needed to told that are now left unspoken forever.
Will you forgive me? The king would ask again to the boy in painting on the wall.
Then the king would leave and go to attend some meeting of oddities that aren't so odd at all. The meeting would be with nobles and advisers and high priests would discuss of needs and wants. It would be a little bit of this and that and other things. Then at the end of the day, he would go back to his chambers and rest.
The king would think before sleep claimed him that he would get his answers someday. He didn't know soon or late it would be but he was willing to wait a thousand years to get answers.
He was willing to wait forever to hear the dear ones' sweet laughter again and to see the quiet, knowing smile of the boy in the painting that hung on the wall.
END