The sun shone on the plains of grass that were surrounding the school. As the school day ended, the students started shuffling out of the building with great haste, though some stayed behind, to talk to a friend or two. Some walked themselves home alone, desperately trying to get away from everybody else.
It had been quite sometime since the incident that had stricken the town silent. However, the place had never been as lively ever since. The mourning of the death of two young children still lingered wherever anybody went. Eerily enough, they both passed not too long apart from each other.
Their graves stood in the cemetery, one visited more often than the other. The anniversary of the childrens' deaths was drawing closer. Even if one of the graves weren't as frequently visited, there were still a decent amount of visitors who would come from time to time. One of which comes everyday, to visit both of the graves.
Melchior Gabor, wrapped head to toe in clothing, stood at the foot of the tombstones. He had come to the cemetery more than he could count, more than he ever expected to in his entire lifetime. And although months have went by ever since the passing of both of the children, Melchior still couldn't bare living without them. But he knew deep in his heart that the two would never have wanted Melchior to take his own life for them. And so there he stood.
On one of the headstones, it read the name: MORITZ STIEFEL.
He had been Melchior's friend. Best friend, really. They met when they were young, as kids just minding their own business, playing childish games like pirates together. It pained Melchior when he first heard that his friend had shot himself. It still pains him to this day. Moritz was someone Melchior never thought he would ever have to say goodbye to. His heart aches when he remembers that he had never had the chance to say goodbye anyways. He wishes that he'd have seen it, that he'd have noticed that Moritz was in pain. But he was too caught up in his own world, and too damn selfish to notice. Or at least that's what he thinks. Moritz would've thought otherwise.
Melchior looked to the next gravestone, the same pain coursing through his body. It read: WENDLA BERGMANN.
Wendla. The most innocent person he had ever met, and possibly one of the only people he had ever truly cared for, aside from Moritz. They shared a childhood together as well, playing pirates with Moritz and Ilse. Melchior, being too stubborn for his own good, caused great misery and discomfort to Wendla. And he knows that. Once again, he should've listened. He should've thought on what he was doing before acting on it. That night in the hayloft, he deeply regrets.
When told that Wendla was pregnant, stress came upon him. He knew what would've happened if he wasn't safe. The decision on keeping the child was, truth to be told, difficult. But he knew it was his responsibility to take care of it due to his rash decisions. What would happen to Wendla if she decided to get rid of the baby? It's absolutely too dangerous to.
He had written a letter to be sent to her, to tell her about the decision. But he didn't hear about anything before it was too late.
Upon seeing the grave of his friend, he stumbled upon Wendla's. The pain was unbearable then. But like Moritz, he knew that Wendla would've never forgave him if he offed himself right then and there.
Melchior understands his actions weren't good. But all he asks for in life now is to be forgiven. He wishes he had done more.
The day passes by, Melchior reminiscing about every moment he had with the two, before noticing the sky as it slowly fades purple, then to black, the bright stars peeking out of the dark curtain up above. He had been standing there for hours. He smiles at the thought of the two reacting to what he's become of now. But like everyday, he leaves the cemetery with his eyes red, nose stuffed. Another day has gone by.
I know it's been a while. I've been doing other stuff, but I've also been writing a lot. So now, I've decided to share one of my recent pieces. I'm sorry if the characterization is a little off, the last time I listened to Spring Awakening has been quite a long while. Also, I didn't edit this, so I'm sorry if there's any mistakes in grammar. Anyway, hello. It's nice to be on here again.