Im saving my story (My Earth) for when I have time to actually sit for hours and come up with words. Heres a sad one shot. Cause thats my mood. I usually write death scenes but what about the other person? How are they feeling? "Inspiration": Having to let a friend go. Though they didnt go like this.
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January 19th 2012. The sky was dark and overcast, and the air was chilly, there was a slight breeze coming from what seemed like all directions. The cool air nipped at mans cheeks and nose turning them a slight pink. The air also seemed to penetrate through his thick dusty brown coat making goosebumps run up and down his arms, neck and legs and he shivers ever so slightly. His nose is running and that could be caused by a few things, his crying or the cold, or even both. He sat on his knees in the cold hard frosted grass, moisture had already long since seeped through his pants and onto his skin. The cold air occasionally blew the long hair around his face, some sticking to his tear stained eyes.
He didn't bother to move the hair or wipe the tears from his eyes, both would just come back; unlike the thing before him. He stared at the grave, the grave of his lover. It was small but at the same time it felt tall and it was dark. He carefully got out the mans favorite flowers... sunflowers..and set them in the flower holder beside the stone; the flowers were fake because the real were not in season. The boy fell forward onto the grass, his hands digging through the rough cold ground.
It all happened so fast...neither knew he was sick. It just...one morning they were sitting around the table eating breakfast, they had fought that morning and neither were willing to give in and then...the man collapsed. The poor boy didn't leave the mans side a single moment before the doctors forced him out of the operation area. Turned out the man had an infection that started in his arm by a cut, it then spread through his arms and then to his lungs and heart then eventually to his brain and other vital organs. He fell into a comma and never woke up. Four days after the collapse, the man died.
They allowed him to bury his lover in his yard. Everyday or night, depending on when he wasn't busy, he would come to his spot for hours and just stare at the grave. He was full of remorse, he should have let the subject go. He should have apologised and not have been stubborn.
He came to this grave everyone and only said one thing and one thing only. I'm sorry. Though he will never get to know if he was forgiven. He'll never get the warm tight and secure embrace, he'll never get the kiss on his head or the whisper into his ear telling him all was ok. They wont get past their engagement, they wont be able to watch their kids grow up together. They wont ever share breakfast in the morning, playfully complain of too much syrup or the lack thereof. He will never be able to wake up at night after a fight and snuggled on his lover and in the morning everything would be forgotten. And he cried. He cried every night with the same words, "I'm so sorry..."
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I made myself cry ;A; No names used for a reason.