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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Ghost · #1199778
Christopher has a lot of things to deal with these days. He just added ghosts to the list.
“Endless Ashes”
Written by Sleep Remedy
Original

~Prologue~

Once upon a time
There were two boys
Who were without guilt.

However, there was also
Their large and terrifying father
Whom was filled with guilt.

Upon those who were without impurity
Rained blows of immeasurable hostility
From the one who could not measure his cruelty.

Finally, the blows were to much
And the one who hated could not see
The was infinite crimson pooling on the floor.

In haste and secrecy,
Once the deed was done,
This father full of guilt did what no one would see.

In the lake behind the house
With the weighting of some rocks
He tossed the two boys in and watched them as they sunk.

Dead, one boy most surely was
But the other not so surely.
As the darkness pressed in closely his eyes opened slowly.

His heart now filled with malice
His eyes clouded with hate
He could see no other option but to terminate that which he hated.

Dragging a useless limb and carrying a rock
He approached his pompous father
Without a single knock.

Advancing extremely silently
Raising the weapon high
He brought it down with authority.

The father fell flat on his Parisian carpet
But his son followed closely
The water had been sitting very heavy in his lungs.

Finding what had happened and realizing what had been done
The grandmother quickly thought up
A way to stop it all from coming undone.

Mixing up fine concrete
Using plaster as a mold
Encased in eternal stone the tired son did go.

When the muck clogged up his airways
And breathing was far harder then
He struggled all he was worth, but no quarter was given him.

While her grandson strangled,
The grandmother feigned tears
No one would ever see the shame laying here.


-Archives of the All-Seeing Eye-
-October 25, 1666-


October 25, 2006
Wednesday, Nightmare
Christopher Schlatten-

         What a strange nightmare I had tonight. Very frightening, indeed. I dreamed that I had killed someone. That I had killed my father, of all people. Then, I had passed out. When I woke up, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't move, I couldn't even open my eyes! I was terrified and it felt like my head was going to explode from the pressure. It was horrible. And now, I have a headache. I already hate today.

Quote of the Day:
Wisdom always chooses black eyes and bruises
Over the heartache that never completely goes away.


* * *


-Authoress Note: Okay, the storyline has been outlined. I fairly like the opening. I know that the format is really screwy, but that's because everything is all scrunched together. The next chapter should make more sense. Oh, and don't even try to complain about the opening poem, I don't even give a crap. It's really bad, but I just didn't want to have to write in a really cryptic fashion, just to keep the finer details of the murders in the shadows. Much love, Sleepy-
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