Status: Frozen.
Crying Skies, Lonely Nights
Chapter 5-Envy
The moon had smiled, I was sure of it. When I took that quick glance at the hospital I had seen a huge, cynic smile in the sky. It was the moon, I know it. She was the one to laugh at the recently passed away kid and his mother, laying down in that cold, white floor. That smile is still burned in my mind, and even right now, as I let out my emotions with this worn out, cheap pencil, the moon looks at me and smiles cynically, yet again. She recognizes me, and she knows the people I have killed. She can smell the blood and the guilt. And she did the same thing on that clean, fatidic night. She had found the murderers, the thieves and the sinners in that night, as she always did. But she knew, just how those lives would end, she knew that everyone would pay for their sins.
As so would the blonde, blue eyed, serene doctor called Max and the chief surgeon, Ryan. Ryan was an exact copy of Morgan Freeman, as awkward as that may sound.
Envy. Sour, green envy. Hate. Sinful, obsessive hate. Envy and hate were the trigger to a stupid chase and a series of murders. Envy and hate between two doctors, the head surgeons of Hope Hospital: Ryan and Max. And on that night, without predicting who their next patients would be, Ryan and Max received their patients without hesitating. I was their toll and a reason for such deep rivalry between the two, and now I laid unconscious in the floor of the hospital.
Max lifted that known body from the floor, saving him from Ryan: he lifted me.
As for Ryan, he stared at his rival and then to his fallen friend,Samantha: Using his strength he lifted my mother’s body and went away with her.
They were both afraid. But they were not afraid of each other. They were afraid of their own fates, of their own assassin aura. Would they be able to do the service themselves? Or would they cowardly find someone else to? Relax would be their first attitude, however there was no time to relax. There were two patients, waiting.
*
Meanwhile, that 10 year old kid was immersed on an egoist nightmare, not knowing his life was on the single, thin line of Ryan’s thinking. It was a different decision and I wouldn’t be here and I’d probably be making my way to Heaven. Or my existence would be erased and I would be buried in the cold earth, slowly decomposing. You chose the one you want.
However, I didn’t think about that. I was dreaming. A phrase that hasn’t applied to me for a long time now. I dreamt about that night. I dreamt about my father. I dreamt about my future. I dreamt about superheroes. I dreamt about illusions. I was afraid. I was frightened. I was scared.
As so would the blonde, blue eyed, serene doctor called Max and the chief surgeon, Ryan. Ryan was an exact copy of Morgan Freeman, as awkward as that may sound.
Envy. Sour, green envy. Hate. Sinful, obsessive hate. Envy and hate were the trigger to a stupid chase and a series of murders. Envy and hate between two doctors, the head surgeons of Hope Hospital: Ryan and Max. And on that night, without predicting who their next patients would be, Ryan and Max received their patients without hesitating. I was their toll and a reason for such deep rivalry between the two, and now I laid unconscious in the floor of the hospital.
Max lifted that known body from the floor, saving him from Ryan: he lifted me.
As for Ryan, he stared at his rival and then to his fallen friend,Samantha: Using his strength he lifted my mother’s body and went away with her.
They were both afraid. But they were not afraid of each other. They were afraid of their own fates, of their own assassin aura. Would they be able to do the service themselves? Or would they cowardly find someone else to? Relax would be their first attitude, however there was no time to relax. There were two patients, waiting.
*
Meanwhile, that 10 year old kid was immersed on an egoist nightmare, not knowing his life was on the single, thin line of Ryan’s thinking. It was a different decision and I wouldn’t be here and I’d probably be making my way to Heaven. Or my existence would be erased and I would be buried in the cold earth, slowly decomposing. You chose the one you want.
However, I didn’t think about that. I was dreaming. A phrase that hasn’t applied to me for a long time now. I dreamt about that night. I dreamt about my father. I dreamt about my future. I dreamt about superheroes. I dreamt about illusions. I was afraid. I was frightened. I was scared.