Status: While this story is technically completed, I was hesitant to label it 'finished', so it may be under editing in the future.
Hopeless Romantic
Epilogue
The crowd gathered around the fallen daughter. There were shouts and sobs, for she had been loved and admired by so many people. She would be missed. A disheveled angel she seemed. And yet her face was full of peace, her smile still fixed on her lips. She looked as if she merely slept, and would wake soon, afetr dreaming of a world with nothing but peace. The only thing which betrayed it was the handle of the dagger clutched in her pale hands. There would be mourning for them both. They would be buried together, as they would have wanted. The dreamers, the lovers, the ones who had lost so much so fast.
Declan stood in the crowd, grief making his face drawn and haggard-looking. Though it killed him to say it, he could believe that this was real. Gwendolyn had always been an all-or-nothing type of person, either loving or hating people. She had been so intense. People had called her a hopeless romantic, and he had defended her. She had been one of his best friends in the world, but now she was gone. He put his face in his hands and sobbed without abandon. Adria, who was standing next to him, held him as he cried. Maybe there could be a glimmer of hope in this, he thought. Maybe her father would realize what he had done, and mourn, too.
But Gwendolyn's father never shed one single tear. Perhaps he was incapable of tears anymore. And he never looked at anyone. No one possessed the desire to look upon him as he walked into the sunrise. He was left with nobody, and nothing to call his own, not even his heart. It had flown away from the very start. Maybe he would find salvation, if he was worthy. He didn't believe he was, and neither did anyone else. And so he walked away from everything, as so many others have done. As he truly had done with everything else. As he walked, the rising sun threw his shadow across the field, and the red sky painted his face crimson. But one phrase he repeated over and over in the mind he had left to call his own.
Until my dying day. Never forget, until my dying day.
He would never forget this. He would never forgive himself. And he would never, ever stop walking. And where he was headed, no one shall ever know...
Declan stood in the crowd, grief making his face drawn and haggard-looking. Though it killed him to say it, he could believe that this was real. Gwendolyn had always been an all-or-nothing type of person, either loving or hating people. She had been so intense. People had called her a hopeless romantic, and he had defended her. She had been one of his best friends in the world, but now she was gone. He put his face in his hands and sobbed without abandon. Adria, who was standing next to him, held him as he cried. Maybe there could be a glimmer of hope in this, he thought. Maybe her father would realize what he had done, and mourn, too.
But Gwendolyn's father never shed one single tear. Perhaps he was incapable of tears anymore. And he never looked at anyone. No one possessed the desire to look upon him as he walked into the sunrise. He was left with nobody, and nothing to call his own, not even his heart. It had flown away from the very start. Maybe he would find salvation, if he was worthy. He didn't believe he was, and neither did anyone else. And so he walked away from everything, as so many others have done. As he truly had done with everything else. As he walked, the rising sun threw his shadow across the field, and the red sky painted his face crimson. But one phrase he repeated over and over in the mind he had left to call his own.
Until my dying day. Never forget, until my dying day.
He would never forget this. He would never forgive himself. And he would never, ever stop walking. And where he was headed, no one shall ever know...
♠ ♠ ♠
I actually wrote this about two years ago, and just got finished my on-and-off type editing. Please leave comments, critiques, suggestions of what you thought.