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Atop a hill, everything Damien once knew at last, was at ease. Put in its place where no one else can find. He drags his head up, towards the glaring sky. The sun shines just as bright as it always has. He walks around a little, wondering if its okay to wander.
As soon as he was comfortable, he holds out a foot over the other, and races through the sunlit fields, passing by the flowers that reached out to appease his worries. This isn’t something he’s used to, but that’s okay. That fear of the unknown he held closely to his chest, was lost in the flowing wind.
Damien’s never been at ease, he confirms it by mentally tracing back to the earliest memories that have waited to be seen again. He stops to sit down by a patch of old moonflowers waiting to wilt, where the view of the sky filled his vision. Here he recounts everything that he’s done that has lead him up to this point, all the anger and guilt that plagued his past has dissipated along with it.
What was left behind was a warm all knowing peace. A moment of rest, a moment of break away from hardships. Damien drops his head, and the grass catch him. Watching the clouds carry off with the streamline of wind, he has found rest and see the world that continues to move on. That is okay, a continuance of his own reassurance. His eyelids grow heavier, beckoning rest from it all.
He’s alone, and he has been alone since the beginning. Not knowing a father nor mother. Never truthfully looking into the face of another person. Before you could do that, you had to face who you were.
A sleep that only lasts in its waking moments, and Damien’s senses awaken to a darker, much colder place. Far from home.
In the center of it all was radiating warmth, holding him dearly into a hug. When the realization takes hold, that’s when he remembers where he is.
The boy was looking over him, him who was cradled into his lap. His achingly long hair veiled everything else around, and the drops of pain in his eyes had no end to them.
The life of his friend was put at rest with his own hands. The black hair that would compliment the every move and turn. Now it lies motionless under Damien’s face. The face that would contort every time it coldly spoke the blonde boy’s name, Pip.
Pip couldn’t bare to look at his crimes written in the blood that soaked Damien’s sweater, tearing deeply into his chest. Although Damien did not feel them, the pain writhed in Pip’s heart. Still the dagger was lightly gripped in his hand, unable to be freed from where it is now.
The anger of how uncomfortable life had been every day for years, all the attempts to not slack at anything knowing how unforgiving the consequences could be, had all found its way to blame the one person who turned their head around for Pip. Someone who willingly stood right next to him, saw the same sky, and saw the same world as he does. And yet, he was the one person who went on without him, stepping on his sprouted hope for change.
With a bit of underlying regret even now forces the crimson eyes of Damien to open, even if it were only for a moment just to look at who was facing him. The person he tried to face before, he won’t fail again this time.
That day he heard his father die was something unknown to him. His father was usually not there, but now he will never be there for Damien. That was something that he couldn’t grasp and couldn’t accept. Why his dad had left him behind, it sparked a change in the way he felt about existence. But that spark was only found after the countless days of waiting for someone to come back, and they didn’t.
No words were spoken, but they both knew what was being said in that moment. Exchanging apologies, knowing what’s done is done. Both acknowledged the weight theyve lived with will soon be lifted.