Status: I'm on hiatus until June 27th 2012 due to my GCSE's. Please, please stick with this.
Bring Me Back To You
Death is a Funny Thing.
It's a funny old thing, death. It creeps up on you when you least expect it, its fingertips slowly inching around your neck so softly and quietly that when it clenches its hands around your throat, it takes you entirely by surprise.
Old Man Atkins knew death. A man of 95, almost everyone he had ever loved was dead. Death had come for them first, taunting him, challenging him to do something, to save the ones he loved from dying. He could only stand by and watch and over time, the extreme pain he felt, as if someone was cutting a part of him away, transformed into a muted anger.
And now, he supposed, death was coming for him to. He wondered if he was scared, but was surprised to find that there was no fear there. Instead a numb acceptance had replaced where his fear normally resided.
Glad to find he wasn't scared, Old Man Atkins closed his eyes.
Old Man Atkins knew death. A man of 95, almost everyone he had ever loved was dead. Death had come for them first, taunting him, challenging him to do something, to save the ones he loved from dying. He could only stand by and watch and over time, the extreme pain he felt, as if someone was cutting a part of him away, transformed into a muted anger.
And now, he supposed, death was coming for him to. He wondered if he was scared, but was surprised to find that there was no fear there. Instead a numb acceptance had replaced where his fear normally resided.
Glad to find he wasn't scared, Old Man Atkins closed his eyes.
♠ ♠ ♠
So I'm starting a new story. I know, I know, its another one. But, its only a drabble story, which I've wanted to do for ages so y'know. Plus I'm thinking of deleting some of my other ones, but I'm not sure yet.Comment&subscribe? I'm really focusing on making my writing and grammar good here guys, feedback will be greatly appreciated.