The red headed boy felt a cold come over him. There was nothing left. He sat in the desert as he felt himself break.
.x.Someone to hold him.x.
The red head looked up at the black night sky. The cold air blew through the desert, he felt nothing. He closed his eyes as he felt something wet drip down his cheeks. He was crying.
.x.Someone to tell him it would be okay.x.
The redheaded teen rolled over so he was face down in the sand his scarred forehead resting on his crossed him. His sand danced around him as the moon above him scattered over the desert like shards of glass.
.x.Someone to tell him they loved him.x.
It had been two years now. Two years since that fateful day he had sent his siblings on a mission. Two years since he had been informed their corpses had been found. Two years since he watched their bodies be lowered into the ground.
.x.Someone to help him get back up.x.
It was his fault. He had sent them on the mission. Why. He should have known they couldn't do it. The red had sobbed into the sand. That was all he had left. This sand.
.x.Someone to miss him when he was gone.x.
Now his body lay cold and stiff in his bed in the tower. There would be a great commotion when they found it. Now there was nothing. He had passed on in the silence of the night. He had hoped he could see his precious siblings again. But his hope was shattered as he descended into death. There was nothing. No heaven. No hell. No Nothing. He felt himself drop into darkness before it all stopped. Everything. It just stopped. His life was over. The village would mourn him, but no body would truly mourn him. No tears would be shed at the sight of his cold body. People would see him as weak. It was over. Everything had gone, had stopped had slipped from his cold palm.
.x.Someone to tell me that they miss me.x.
.x.To meet me on the other side.x.
