Hers | ✔ | (Editing)

24| Amaranthine

If he was stronger, he would have never collapsed into a void of oblivion.

If he was braver, James wouldn't be suffering.

If.

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At the time, it seemed like the most logical thing to do.

At the time, it seemed like he was being strong -No, I won't do this anymore Father- that his voice would be laced with iron steadiness, that his footsteps would echo with sturdy pride as he left the house.

At the time, he thought escaping the walls that would keep him safe would ensure his freedom.

If that was the case, why did he feel so trapped?

His skies were always cloudy, embroiled with shards of pepper, charcoal and onyx. The gaps of sunshine that still managed to peek through the holes of his ashy sky was what made him remember he was human.

Then why did he feel like he was a shadow roaming around the living?

Aaron was already missing before he left. He was just a hollow body aimlessly walking in the areas he thought he could find himself in.

But he lost it.

He lost the part of himself that he had every right to keep; got ripped away the section of himself that made him him.

The part of him that made him feel human.

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It was always raining.

At first Aaron thought the drizzles of torment and lies would eventually wear away; the these clouds of evil would leave at one point.

But that was before the lightning.

The lightning made his leaves of hope tremble with uneasiness; his bark of steadiness shake with anxiety. But Aaron was still believing - It will all go away, it will all go away, it will all go away- still hoping that everything would be okay.

Then came the thunder.

It first stroked its baleful currents around him; shaking the ground until Aaron's roots couldn't handle it couldn't handle it couldn't handle it.

And he fell down.

He fell and he hit the ground with a bone breaking crack. He was cut open but he was still strong -It's okay it's going to be okay going to be okay- he still had his soul anchored to his leaves; life embedded in his bark.

But that was before the storm.

Before they completely ruined him.

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It was all pain.

He could feel each strike of thunder electrifying his skin, burning away his hopes, tearing him apart.

He could feel the lightning blitz through his armored trunk; the caustic water and hail slithering into the gaps of him that he couldn't cover up.

The fierce winds kept him down -it was like a rope wrapping itself around him- crashing away any breath he has ever reserved; blowing away any flickers of hope in him.

He was bleeding on the ground; screaming and scratching -trying to push them away- but it was all so pathetically futile.

It was first his leaves.

H̶e̶ ̶l̶o̶s̶t̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶s̶t̶r̶e̶n̶g̶t̶h̶.̶

Then his bark.

H̶e̶ ̶l̶o̶s̶t̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶h̶u̶m̶a̶n̶i̶t̶y̶.̶