this is just a plain horror, and i have a feeling about this one, if anyone has any idea's or wants to help promote please do, along with my other stories as well.
dedicated to @Lost_In_A_Dream for making me this awesome cover!!!!!!!
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prologue
Thursday 25th January 2002
He peaked through the curtains eyeing the streets with envy. His hair had sunken over his black rimmed eyes and clung to his skin, wet and dripping, his hands were pruned as if age had been anything but nice to him and his clothes were wrinkled.
He didn't pull the curtains open any wider, nor did he close them, he stayed there glaring at the bystanders and towns people who went by.
He hated the lot of them
He despised that in his need, in his hopelessness they did nothing but throw him pitiful glances and worried looks. But he didn't need that, he needed his life back, he needed something that was close yet so far; But not entirely sure what that was yet. The loss was something that nearly strangled him and he remembered it like it was yesterday.
The day of the burial.
You couldn't say it was sunny, nor could you say it was cold like a winters day, instead, say it was like a slight breeze and the clouds bright but yet the sun couldn't be seen.
He strode to where the forest broke out into plains and stared down at the hole, his lips tugged into a solemn expression as he watched the priest say his words of complete and utter rubbish, words that meant nothing to her and nothing to him.
It lasted quiet long, like usual, the drawing out of sorrows and wishes that had no symbolism to either of them. But then it was his turn, as suspected they wanted him to say words of solemn, words that would make him shed a tear. Instead he smiled, his grin stretching to extreme extents as where the crowd gave him confused looks.
He began with "you people make me sick, sitting here, crying over a person you barely knew" he scoffed "and you make it seem like she's dead" he laughed and took the microphone off its stand, walking towards the ilse in the middle, the people staring at him like he was crazy. "she isn't dead, not to me, actually I have good news, shes alive and as well as ever" he chuckled "she will com back to me I assure it, so continue please do. It makes me laugh how you people shed tears and absorb them with handkerchiefs or how you make your eyes close with sorrow when really and truly when this day ends no one will remember her, but when she comes back to me, when her soul digs itself into another body and comes to me I will prove you all wrong" someone tapped his shoulder, and he turned around to see craig giving him a serious look.
"you need to stop" he said in a stern voice, but the man only smiled wider.
"why is that?" he questions, and criag grabbed him roughly.
"I know the loss from this is a great deal, but do not make a fool of yourself in front of the towns people, she's dead! And saying that she will come back is not making it easier for her parents to let her go. stop this nonsense before it gets out of hand" he whispered harshly, snatching the microphone from his hands and apologising to the crowd, explaining that the man was merely suffering from rejection and disbelieve, and that soon enough he would come back to reality.
If only he knew
That day the man knew he was alone. But at first he thought it was a joke, he had a tiny spec of hope that someone would find him, support him in a way of where he needed to be comforted, but no one did.
Not once did they knock his door or send him a card.
Not once did they say hello or give him a word.
Not once did they send him an email or even a letter.
They did nothing but give him unwanted looks that only made him angrier.
Why look at him with such pity an guilt?
Why make the man feel like it was his fault?
He couldn't understand it himself and at that moment he didn't want to.
The man moved from the window, his hair had dried and become dull with the lack of shine and treatment. He didn't bother moving it out of his eyes while he made his way to the kitchen, the beautiful marble kitchen of which he had so much pride and joy over.
He strode towards the fridge, pulling out a carton of milk and drinking it straight from the box, his throat bobbing up and down as the cool substance touched his insides and some slowly dripping down the front of his shirt. He threw the carton in the bin once done and grabbed an apple off the side, though slightly bruised he would need his energy. So roughly he bit into it. When he was done with his routine he walked up to his room and packed his clothes, even though it wasn't much: three pairs of trousers, one t-shirt, two pairs of shoes and one jacket. Not to mention about five boxers of which were either torn or ripped.
He admitted that he didn't live the wealthy life, in fact he didn't leave the house unless needed to, and that was only to go to the corner shop to buy the shopping for the week, but other than that he stayed in his house hostage to the little kids screams as they dared each other to take a step onto his lawn.
They thought of him as the nut case of the town, and they made that fact known.
He shut his suitcase swiftly and picked up his grey duffle bag, packing it with the essentials, than last but not least, a photograph, one that had not yellowed around the edges to show age, but still had creases in it.
The picture showed her in all her glory, her sun blessed skin and bright blue eyes, her blonde cloud like hair that floated around her shoulders like a great halo. Her cheeks were slightly pink since it was taken in the winter and hands were in black leaver gloves that hung onto her skin.
She was a skinny little thing, at first the man was worried for her health, but he also realised that you cant always judge a book by its cover, because for such a skinny person such as herself, she was strong in will, mind and body. She kept at her own at times and that sometimes caused them to clash, but never the less he still cherished everything about her.
Shaking his head the man laughed bitterly into the empty room.
He was thinking that way again, his mind kept going back to that obscene way of thinking she was dead. She isn't, it was a complete lie. And he didn't believe it one bit.
The man stepped out into the foyer looking back at the house that brought both good and bad memories, he was determined as ever and he wasn't going to give up.
He was going to find her.
He was going to prove them all wrong.
