Dedicated to SparkieSteph, who gave me the prompt 'shattered' over MSN (:
Warning, Angst! (We love it here though) and character deaths!
I don't own the Boosh, which belongs to Julian and Noel, God bless 'em :P
Shattered
Soft white snowflakes fell from the navy blue skies, the London landscape smothered with an icy blanket. Snowmen stood in the streets and parks, some half finished, some half destroyed and some still standing proud and perfect. The wind howled through the trees, blowing the still dangling leaves off the almost bare winter branches, a beautiful sight for any two eyes to behold, but for Howard Moon it was not. This season reminded him of someone he once knew, someone who once adored this scene, someone who once helped craft the snowmen that graced the areas with their company, someone who would never see it again. This someone was Vince Noir, someone that Howard missed more than anything in the world, in fact, he was his world, and now his world was gone he felt as though, he was all alone falling into an abyss, the never-ending pit of guilt.
It was three months since the accident; Howard and Vince were out in the van, the weather was behaving well for them as the sun radiated into the vehicle almost making it a mobile sauna, minus the steam. The sky was blue, and not a grey cloud was in sight, their destination; Brighton. That was their ideal destination, but they never got as far as a tree along some country lane, a tyre on the van blew causing the van to career off into a nearby tree deeming the duo unconscious.
Howard Moon stirred in his seat, his head was pounding, and he groggily lifted a heavy hand to his temple, rubbing it to soothe the headache, unaware that he had crashed, unaware of the blood pouring from his ears, unaware that his friend was in danger, that of course was until he realised the situation and spun his head round to his left, only to witness a sight he shouldn't have had to see, his best friend face down on the dashboard lying in a pool of his own blood. Howard reeled back in horror, he could feel something making its way up his throat making him retch, he felt all the colour drain from his face, but most of all he felt guilty, if only he hadn't forgot to check the tyres, then maybe he wouldn't be looking at his best friend face down in blood, a placid expression painted across his grey stone cold face. Maybe he wouldn't be sitting here in the van, compressed up against a tree wondering what to do, maybe he wouldn't be feeling this guilt, this awful emotion, but he knew he deserved it, his friend was dead all because he forgot one simple task. Howard slammed his head down on the steering wheel, causing the van to emit a loud scream, causing Howard to emit a loud scream, the combined noises piercing the fragile mind of the grieving man, But Howard didn't care anymore, nothing mattered, his friend was dead and his world had shattered.
Howard rubbed the cold barrel of the gun up and down his dampened cheeks, before moving it upwards and resting it on his temple; he cocked the gun and placed a shaking finger on the trigger, pulling it back allowing the many forces to push the single round through his cranium. The body fell to the ground with a thud, and the gun slipped from his fingers, bouncing across the carpet, stopping at a photograph that stood in front of the fireplace, a photograph of Howard and Vince.