It's been almost a year since the heart gnawing disaster that turned one young man's life to broken guitar strings, broken guitar strings are useless. Useless was the word he used to describe himself. He got flashes whenever the boy looked at the rotting corpses on the table that sat in the corner under the window of the basement. That way it helped the smell of rotten flesh outside to the Texas air.
The sound of familiar footsteps followed by a familiar voice echoed with the creaking of the wood stairs. The taller man looked down at the younger boy and all that came to mind was how disgusting and sad this sight was. Finally the older male spoke, his tone was like poison but it was still compassionate. "Stop moping around and follow that dumb ass dream of yours! If you love irony then fucking live it at all times. Because I know you, and this pathetic. You have a visitor so clean yourself up and get your ass upstairs. Or I will send them down and you can freak them out with our decomposing brother.
"He looked at him with a glare. " Yeah, yeah, yeah shut the hell up Dirk, I already know it's rose I'm not stupid." He hissed as dirk walked back upstairs.
The young man stood up sighing as he looked down at the body that he could hardly recognize anymore. He wanted to try everything he could to see if he could bring him back. He tried witchcraft, ouija boards, black salt candles, everything that he didn't believe in he tried, hoping that something would work.
As he washed the congealed blood off his hands, all the nagging from his brother started to get to him. Maybe trying to bring his brother back won't work.
Then he looked up to the mirror and stood a man about 5'10. He was skinny but fit, with long lingering arms that connected to his tired hands. His complexion was very pale as if he never saw the sun with a few freckles that looked more grey than flesh toned. His hair was a white blonde color that you could tell wasn't his own since the brown regrowth could be easily seen. (You could tell he wasn't related to his older brothers...well brother now).
He swept his hair to the side with his fingers to make it look neat but it still looked like he had just woken up from a 2 year slumber. His eyes looked tired with lightly dusted bags under his eyes. His eyes then lingered to his own in the morior almost startling himself with the pain behind his crimson eyes.
"I hope you enjoyed part one!! Sorry to end it like that please let me know what you think please!!"
~Orrin
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The pain behind crimson eyes (DaveJohn)
Teen FictionI wrote this because of a unit we were doing in English most about Greek stories with myth and folktales.One of The Greek rules I liked and it was to bury the body so it does not wander the earth. This is a little bit not safe for work because it in...
