It stung. The pain striking through his arm and up his shoulder. Gritting his teeth, Dante stared up through his tears at the blurred sky. The sun suddenly blinding, burning whiteness into the edges of his vision. Clutching at his arm, he rested his head back on the soft squashed tulips of his mother's flower bed, the dirt wet and clumping to the back of his head. Feeling the muddy water seep into the torn seams of his shirt,he squirmed and then stilled. Gasping as the pain shot up his arm, blurring his vision and turning the frantic shouts around him into nothing more than a low muted ringing in his ear.
Eventually, he felt the dirt fall away and the ground leave him as he was pulled up. A pounding headache splitting his forehead into two and drying his mouth. Words becoming a distant babble as the sun was blocked out by a shadow and a louder ringing. He couldn't focus on the image ahead of him though, feeling like he was going cross eyed as the air rushed past him. Something cool placed upon his forehead and shadows started to move in and out of his vision, but not one he recognised. And all that he could think of in his confusion and affliction was, 'Where was Sterling?
------Two days later-----
He finally had enough strength to sit up in bed, feed and bathe himself without holding onto anything as support. Sterling had avoided him the whole day and no one seemed to listen when he asked for his brother. His parents gave each other worried looks and told him to merely rest while the nurse brought into tend to him for a few days seemed as silent and as creepy as those marionette dolls he read about in horror novels. It was only after he escaped her whilst she fell asleep and wondered over to his brother's room and then all over their home. Hollering up the attic and into the back yard, waking the whole neighbourhood up, did his parentsfinally cave and tell him his brother had been sent away for his own good to some Uncle Sephyr had never heard of.
He locked himself up in his room the next few days, refusing food and any contact. It was only when he was caught tryingto run away that he was forced to eat. And it was only three days later when the first letter from his brother arrived, did he calm down and eat dinner with his parents. It was only after a month when he started to talk to them again, allowing things to gradually go back to normal though he had become more eager everytime the mail arrived. Stopping the mail man, literally frozen in his tracks, until he wrote a return letter and sent it back the very same day.
He wrote about his days, the pranks he played on the servants and the new kids that moved into the the area. The many guests that their parents invited and the garden adventures he had when he snuck out into the little back area of woods they had behind the house. Casting those tales in secret writing so their parents wouldnt find out how ofren he snuck out at night to catch fireflies and watch the moon flowers bloom. Mostly, he wrote about how much he missed him and how stupid it was that they were apart like this and how he had already forgiven Sterling for hurting him while they were playing. Telling him that the scar looked cool anyway and all the kids believed the stories he made up around it.
Eventually, the letters began to get further and further apart, both busy with the winter finals in their respective studies. The cold having shut down the post office as well. The weather turned grey, then bright and writing came only when he remembered the stack of letters under his desk, all tied up neatly since he hadn't been able to bear to throw anyway. He still had the same adventures and fun, but he stopped writing about them. In the end, he just stopped writing.
And one hot summer's night, years away from childhood, he kicked of the sheets and snuck out into the woods to release the fireflies and watch the flowers bloom. Forgetting about all things of letters and distant siblings, of old scars and freezing the mailman. No, he was thinking about the silent twinkling stars as the shadow descended upon him. And the stars twinkled silently as his parents came running towards his panicked shouts.
Days later, they helped pack his bags and kissed him on the forehead goodbye.
Eventually, he felt the dirt fall away and the ground leave him as he was pulled up. A pounding headache splitting his forehead into two and drying his mouth. Words becoming a distant babble as the sun was blocked out by a shadow and a louder ringing. He couldn't focus on the image ahead of him though, feeling like he was going cross eyed as the air rushed past him. Something cool placed upon his forehead and shadows started to move in and out of his vision, but not one he recognised. And all that he could think of in his confusion and affliction was, 'Where was Sterling?
------Two days later-----
He finally had enough strength to sit up in bed, feed and bathe himself without holding onto anything as support. Sterling had avoided him the whole day and no one seemed to listen when he asked for his brother. His parents gave each other worried looks and told him to merely rest while the nurse brought into tend to him for a few days seemed as silent and as creepy as those marionette dolls he read about in horror novels. It was only after he escaped her whilst she fell asleep and wondered over to his brother's room and then all over their home. Hollering up the attic and into the back yard, waking the whole neighbourhood up, did his parentsfinally cave and tell him his brother had been sent away for his own good to some Uncle Sephyr had never heard of.
He locked himself up in his room the next few days, refusing food and any contact. It was only when he was caught tryingto run away that he was forced to eat. And it was only three days later when the first letter from his brother arrived, did he calm down and eat dinner with his parents. It was only after a month when he started to talk to them again, allowing things to gradually go back to normal though he had become more eager everytime the mail arrived. Stopping the mail man, literally frozen in his tracks, until he wrote a return letter and sent it back the very same day.
He wrote about his days, the pranks he played on the servants and the new kids that moved into the the area. The many guests that their parents invited and the garden adventures he had when he snuck out into the little back area of woods they had behind the house. Casting those tales in secret writing so their parents wouldnt find out how ofren he snuck out at night to catch fireflies and watch the moon flowers bloom. Mostly, he wrote about how much he missed him and how stupid it was that they were apart like this and how he had already forgiven Sterling for hurting him while they were playing. Telling him that the scar looked cool anyway and all the kids believed the stories he made up around it.
Eventually, the letters began to get further and further apart, both busy with the winter finals in their respective studies. The cold having shut down the post office as well. The weather turned grey, then bright and writing came only when he remembered the stack of letters under his desk, all tied up neatly since he hadn't been able to bear to throw anyway. He still had the same adventures and fun, but he stopped writing about them. In the end, he just stopped writing.
And one hot summer's night, years away from childhood, he kicked of the sheets and snuck out into the woods to release the fireflies and watch the flowers bloom. Forgetting about all things of letters and distant siblings, of old scars and freezing the mailman. No, he was thinking about the silent twinkling stars as the shadow descended upon him. And the stars twinkled silently as his parents came running towards his panicked shouts.
Days later, they helped pack his bags and kissed him on the forehead goodbye.