I was staring into the eyes of a lifeless child.
He died while I was trying to staunch the deep bloodied wound that kept bleeding and bleeding. In those dark seconds, while he was writhing and moaning in pain in my arms, he kept putting a hand to my cheek as if his life depended on it. I reassured him that he'd be OK while I, of course, through my fogged and blinded mind, had hoped that he would survive too. My high hopes didn't last long though. As his movements got weaker, he began gasping, and struggling for breath. Finally, blood slid out of his mouth and he went limp. I didn't have time to register what had happened at that moment because I kept spouting words of comfort. When I realized he wasn't making any noises, I stopped, shook him a bit, and repeated his name with a croaked voice. That's when reality hit me like a ton of bricks he was gone and it was to late to save him.
I uncovered the wound with my bloody hand and brought my fingers up to close his eyes. Cupping his cheek, I shook my head. Slowly I brought my forehead to his and softly murmured with sorrow. " I'm sorry". I kissed his forehead and lay him back on the cold ground.
My gaze landed on my discarded sword and gun then, standing up, I walked over to them. Putting the weapons back into my sheath and holster, I sighed. I glanced down at the lifeless body that killed the boy and, scowling I walked over to it and kicked its side harshly, before returning to the boys corpse. I kneeled beside him, and brought my fingers up to caress the side of his cheek. I did not care about the blood creating a tiny pool right next to his wound; I was covered in blood anyway. I picked him up bridal style, and carried the body out of the abandoned chapel. It was dawn now, and the sky was a dark, bloody, orange hue. I made the decision to bury this child, but not here, not in this tainted place.
Was there nowhere beautiful to bury this child?
I placed the rose on the ground in front of the gravestone. It took me hours to dig out a proper pit let alone one that was going to contain a body and a coffin. I stood there, hands in my pockets, as the wind blew my ebony hair in my face, and tried to whisk my trench coat away from me.I stare numbly at the words that I carved into the stone. Aiden was his name, but he never told me his last.
I recalled asking for his age and he told me he was eleven. He seemed younger, so much younger than that; like age seven. I smiled a little. Reminding myself that looks can deceive. I'm guessing the soft features of his face contrasted his maturity. The way he smiled brightly, as blue, clear as an ocean orbs sparkled in the light. The way his skin his pale skin glowed ever so softly like a newborn baby, and how his shaggy jet black hair swayed softly in his face, in sync with the wind.
When we first met, I thought he was nothing but a thorn in my side. I pushed him away away when he wanted to help me, and I hurt him. Yet, as time went on I went soft on him and got accustomed to his childish ways. The results is that fights lessened between us. He didn't deserve any of my cruelty on my part. I sighed and closed my eyes. I was stubborn, of course, and I never said sorry. As time neared to his end it was too late. I opened my eyes again, looking up heavenwards I whispered, "Forgive me." Silently knowing it would be picked up within the wind and continue into oblivion. This was my punishment.