Hi guys, I'll just casually leave this here. I hope you all enjoy reading it, if so, or if not(particularly if you don't) tell me why! Feedback is awesome!
By the way I don't the mov movies... Just this story!
Broken Toy Soldier
Day by day his monotonous cycle repeats itself: wake up, breakfast, meetings, lunch, meetings, paperwork, gym, diner and sleep. This new age so full of wonders, at pot of gold and new discoveries seems bland. He can't bring himself to care about the newly discovered wonders before him, so he repeats the cycle-over and over and over.
He supposes the familiarity of his scheduled life, the peace, the serenity, should be a relief from the hellish destruction of war. But, it wasn't. He can't bring himself but to feel hollow. He feels like an husk of the person he used to didn't feel like a super soldier, a hero. He felt like a spark that had been snuffed out with a merciless douse of freezing water.
He didn't talk to anyone but those who addressed him, he didn't want too, and it wasn't for a friendly 'hello' or 'how are you today?' they presented him with anyway. Those who stopped to talk with him only spoke about this new age, the new technology, how he was orienting himself into this society so different than the one he grew up in.
He did not care, he didn't bother learning how to work the television set, or the plastic radio on his bedside table. He didn't bother because he didn't have anything to motivate him, he didn't have a purpose. He didn't have her.
The empty meetings which pertain to most of his day are spent with thoughts of her.
Did she have a good life?
Did she miss me?
Did she move on?
Those were the only thoughts plaguing his mind, thoughts of her. Her image, lurking in the periphery of his vision, the ghost of her lips against his, her scent like an unrelenting fog over him. When it was late and he couldn't find himself able to succumb to the temporary relief of sleep-when he was delirious with utter lack of energy- he could swear she was behind him, skimming her pale fingers over the cotton of his shirt. For that brief moment he found himself filled with so much joy and hope it hurt, but when he turned around, he was alone; it was just the vapid room he was assigned.
Moments like that he would shatter, he would break and crumple in indescribable pain. He missed her, he missed his friends, his family, he missed his purpose. He hadn't even had a chance and say goodbye to his parents. It crushed him. Everything crushed him. The weight of this world and the one he lost pressed down upon him in unrelenting cruelty.
Though, there was one thing that brought the pain through his heart the most. The one thing that mattered, that he regretted with his entirety, his broken promise which twisted and writhed within his soul and trembling heart.
He missed his dance.