| ... ... ... You are nowhere. Nowhere is currently where you stand. ... ... ... In front of you, your vision picks up a rose-coloured petal slowly descending to the ground. The lush, cool grass underneat your feet is of the same colour. You look up. Towering trees loom over you. Their branches are congested with faded pink leaves. Not leaves. You look closer. Petals. Cherry blossoms. The warm air around you is filled with the faint scent of roses. Off to your right, you see a patch of red and green, contrasting with the pink grass. You walk in that direction. As you near closer, you can see that these are roses. The powerful scent rushes into your lungs as you breath in deep. Beautiful. Simply gorgeous. You reach foreward to pluck one from the ground, but a voice holds you back. "No. Please don't" Pivoting around on the spot, you notice a small boy, about eleven years of age, behind you. He measures in at about four ten and eighty pounds.He has a grey t-shirt on, along with black shorts. Bloody bandages cover his right eye, forehead, left calf and left palm. His shaggy hair has been cut short recklessly, and is a brilliant shade of platinum blonde. In his bandaged left hand, you see that he has a small, blue watering can. The paint is peeling off in some places, revealing the ugly, rusted undercoat. As he steps closer, you can plainly see that his eye colour can only be described in one word. Rust. The colour of his iris is a reddish-copper. The small black dot in the center stares at you blankly. You can't find any words. Your mouth is empty. Your speech is non-existent. The boy speaks for you. "Those are my mother's roses. Please don't touch them." His voice is toneless. You back away from the rose patch as the boy nears it. He gently sprinkles the water on the beautiful flowers and speaks to them in a low, comforting voice. His words are too quiet to make out. He rises again, this time to face you. "You," he says while pointing his index finger in your direction. "...should not be here." "W-why?" "If you are here, you are non existent. Everything here ceases to exist. Even I am a figment of nothing. Nothing is everything's base material." He pauses as he lowers his outstretched hand. "But you..." he walks over to you and places his right hand on your heart. You retreat in shock. The boy's hand was ice cold. Like that of a corpse., "You clearly have a heart beat." You stare at him, not knowing what to expect. The boy's eyes sadden. He bites his lower lip. "You are doomed to become nothing. You poor soul. I sympathize." Swirling around, the boy races into a lush, emerald green forest of which you never noticed before. You follow him. |
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