And I don't feel the need to go on
I
was happier singing along the way
I had things, I need to say
But
now it's like a swallowed tape
That holds up my face from
inside
As everything just falls apart
'Cause everything just
fell apart for me
Falls Apart - Hurt
My brother. Erik Destler. Prince of the Night. King of Death. The Phantom of the Opera. Sick, and dying.
Woe is the sister who realizes too late her power in her remaining families death. Woe is the bride who searches too hard for a clue and not seeing the true sickness. Woe is the friend who does not sleep for fear of a dead body. Woe is the doctor who cannot grasp the correct medicine. Woe is the man who's love for a strange faerie of a woman is too soon slipping through his fingers. Yes, woe is this starnge tapastry of a world in which we thrive. Woe is we. Woe is me.
My mind raced as I rested on Rafe's back as he carried me into the dark dungeons. Madame Giry walked ahead, her concerned whispers carrying back to me.
"Why, Brittany, would she feel the need to die?"
"She must've been jealous, or lonely..."
"Her disaperance a long time ago, was it related?"
"I should pray to the good Lord not!"
"Noemi!" Giry's voice screeched into my ears, "Can you remember his symptoms and draw paralells?"
I strained my sore mind to remember. "Reddish bumps, Swollen joints, Enlarged lymph nodes, Depression, Chills, Weight loss..."
"That could be any number of things..." Nadir whispered. "Did he have kidney stones and difficulty breathing?"
"Yes. I believe so."
"Sarcoidosis." Nadir determined. "There is no cure. But he must excercise, eat healthy, drink plenty of water and..."
"AND WHAT!?!" Brittany whipped around, anger flooding her eyes.
Nadir mumbled and cleared his throat. "He must walk in the sun."
"Shhh...." I whispered as I climbed off of Rafe's back and walked into my brothers home.