Title: Just Nothing
Author: Broken Music Box
Rating: PG (for death, suicide, and general morbidness)
Summery: Last one standing. (one-shot)
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The sun shone down relentlessly on someone who didn't want its warmth. An azure sky overhead echoed the simple blue of the sole survivor's being. A gentle wind blew a small breath as a reminder the there was one left.
Just one.
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A form, curled in a tight ball, sat on the river bank and dangled his feat in the clear water. Soulless eyes gazed without seeing. Bangs blew over a face, hiding a solemn expression.
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Death. That was what he dealt in. He was the guardian. The pretty, broken guardian of the grave's of his friends. Oh, how Malik Ishtar would have laughed at that.
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Shivering, the form scrambled to leaden feet. The many flowers needed distributing. One for each person.
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Finally, Joey Wheeler stopped. Every single person in the circle had gone. He was the last one. And his job was done. The graves were tended to. Perhaps he had lingered longest simply to see to that. But it didn't matter anymore.
The single gun shot rang out, marking the very end.
-fin-
