kiwimate replied to your post: /yawns/ G’morning!
If you’re making flowers, you think you can teach me how to make some as well? -pokes his cheek a little-
[he looks up, startled, before sucking in a breath.]
B—big bro?
I…you—are you back? For real now?
[ the boy with little knobby knees, a big heart, and more dreams then anyone could imagine. Baby blue eyes, and salt-licked hair no matter how far away from the ocean he was. Born of war and desolation, he pulled through everything in order to become a happy child. A real child.
But then again, some things, he just couldn’t forget.
There he was. Standing at the foot of a hill somewhere in Italy—in his secret place, his special place—he stayed, motionless. Quietly, he began his work, walking up the grass-covered hill, past all the weeds and wildflowers, up to the top.
And he stood there. For a long moment, he just stood. Licking his lips and curling his fingers into his fist. Just…there. Just there.
And then he knelt down, brushing away the weeds to uncover his secrets.
Five white rocks. Five simple, white rocks. The boy smiled lightly, before brushing his fingers over each one.
One for Raivis, whom he was still waiting for
One for Tayrus, who disappeared as soon as he came, like a gust of wind.
One for Luddy, who was gone now. He left even though he promised not to.
One for another, whose name Peter didn’t wish to say.
And a new one.
One for Will.
Slowly, the child bowed his head down, and the tears came.
There was no yelling. No screaming. He had done that all before. It didn’t matter at this point, because no amount of yelling, he found, could bring them back. Not now, not ever. ]
Dear big bro—
