No, no, no
So light, a body so light in his arms. Light and feeble with quacking breaths- slowly slowing. A pale face, growing paler, growing grey. Her hair crowned her head like a halo, like an angel. She lay dying; an angel, dying slowly. Slowly slowly-
Not again
"I just wanted…" He heard her words through ringing ears. His eyes saw her but didn't see, didn't believe. "To be with you…to be a couple, like any other…"Her voice was thin, something precious and breakable. Like a soap bubble that would pop any second, and she wasted these dying breaths on him.
No, no no
"Then stay with me, Xelha! It'll be alright, we'll be a normal couple-" His voice cracked and betrayed him. He wanted to cry- and he might have, actually. He couldn't tell. "Just like any other! It'll be alright!" No it won't, no it wouldn't. It wouldn't be alright.
Just promise me this He'd said don't leave us- me.
The thin breathes and the soft face, pale face, blond hair and… blood
The blood, oh the blood, and the quivering body, clinging to life and fingers slipping slowly, about to fall, flat. The tiny face that had looked so fondly to him, big brother, now not really looking with glazed eyes, gasping, gurgling. The soft, pale face and pale hair and thin words that popped like soap bubbles, leaving him alone and dying. So terribly small- he was so small. A wisp of a boy, crumpled like a broken doll in his arms, making him look giant and terrible if you compared. Terrible and clumsy and flawed, you sickly raven.
No no no no no
"Xelha? Xelha!" How had it happened again? Was it him, had he done it? Wait, he had done it, he'd said a prayer and left her lifeless. She had had asked him to, but no, no, it was his fault, he'd done it, like the first time- but had the first time been his fault?
Oh but it had, it had. He hadn't done a thing and watched that little boy die in his arms big brother… he'd listened to a dying voice, frozen, bleeding- he could have done something, he could have saved him. But he didn't, he was too weak or too dumb or raven, sickly raven
He bent over her, holding her as he failed to do before, willing her to live again, until that will shattered and he wanted to cry again. He was crying, he soon figured- but he still couldn't tell. His ears were ringing, his whole body tingled, he couldn't comprehend it- gone, gone, gone.
No, no, no
Two lifeless bodies, pale and pure and dead,
What have I done?
Because I love writing stream of consciousness, and agnst, far too much.
A little more poetry than prose.
