2 | Diaries of the Seawalls
Secrecy, it was such a humble melody. Once again I'm back on the sea walls, welling whales up above the seagull streams blossoming summer all throughout the linen fingertips of God. The sweet melody of guitar, palm up and down, fingers pierced through the lenses of it through the hollow rabbit hole down the street lights. Paving their way was the regular red herrings of the town. The mask where everybody hides on. The mayor was a good kind man kin to blood and murder. He's visited us once and took all our money, he even shot our dog but I pay no attention to it these days. The dog died and we ate it's remains after father cooked it. Potatoes and ragged rotten beef he found by the smoky mountains. People here are obese on their own rights. Obese to the point that's rigged. Them dismembered lines down their chest starting to appear. They started appearing on mine too but my stomach is a heavy balloon for some reason. Sea shells vintage reverberation. What year is it ?, I don't know myself I just know the war is coming early on as the summers will come. The air changes now and then. Back then, the airs around the walls are fresh, lush, vivid and piercing but now all I can smell is the round smell of smoke and a smell I keep hearing meddling around my archangel temples. Walls throughout the city began spreading fires. I just kept myself on the grounds- frozen off my shelf with coral stones in my hands. Cobblestone haywire worth mentioning to Liam. Oh, Liam where is he now. The last thing I heard about him is he's with the lights now. Sometime though when I was watching through over the sea walls I heard his screams from miles away. I don't know where he is now, and they wouldn't tell me where too. They just say " he's with the lights now, oh bells bless his soul ". Liam, Liam , Liam so wondrous and whimsical. He's like the guy from the movies who's doing all kinds of craziness. And sometimes he'd even dare me to do the things and there we'll have a little competition, either outcomes would be a tie or a petty fight that'll last for a few days. Liam is like a girl, atleast that's what they say. He attends normal school while I'm stuck here waiting for the rice to cook through charcoal fires. He does tell me stories about what school is. He'll tell me these stories with such enchanting, mesmerizing details accompanying his pocket actions. I always look forward to his stories but even though he'll tell those stories with such joyfulness. I can't help to notice his eyes. How he hides his bruises everytime after school. Liam came from an average family. They can afford nice things which makes me wonder why his clothes are made of stitches and patches, bruises burned over them, he always tries to cover it up in someway or another. I once gone to Liam's school, I sneaked in-between the crowds, it was a nice day, I got to explore his school. I was just walking around when the guard spotted me. He chased me with every breadth of his energy distributed evenly. The rocks well thought out to be used in my advantage, I lead the guard to a rocky spot I found earlier, The guard looks like in his middle 20's, curly hair and crusted eyes. He eventually tripped over one of the rocks and fell over the rocky earthen. His head bled, but he's still conscius but for the sake of being sorry I've recited his elegies already and prayed for his soul in advance. As I jump off the glass shard fence I saw Liam all bloody with a pocket knife in his wrist, he embroided a slit. Another one, and another. I just stood there still- blinded by the scorching sun, I thought it was just another one of those trials before you can join what they call ' gangs and fraternities '. I just stood there. Stood there. Time passed. A minute. Another one. He collapsed afterwards, I was about to carry him home but then I saw someone approaching him so I backed off and let them do the work. Running to appease the sunset I wondered why those boys who've gone to Liam have ropes with them, sack and couple of contraptions. I hope they've got medicine and band aids though, I thought. Just admiring the sunset after recollecting all kinds memories again, oh, what a lovely day, but his presence still lingers within me. I can still feel his weight over my shoulder. His laugh everytime we've done something crazy together. The way he speaks to the way he views things. The taste of his lips still acid on my mind, his scent, his soft velvet skin over the rising Suns of the Ice Queen. The grass within the sea walls are the only treasure he left behind. His hands prints still on the summer dry sets. Gracious palms down the overhead lights. Still the sound of cicadas willing lullabies. Sounds of the sea, the rivers, the bittersweet smell of fumes from the cities carried by the camera woven airs. Winds of the dog days. Where is he now?, Where is he?. I keep wondering, wondering and wondering. From afar I can see his smile. Stitches. The sun setting lead the leafs below to ground zero as the starry night goes on I can hear the townsmen shouting "He's here!, He's here!". Out of curiosity I've gone there, down the prairies and the fairy bushes. Wishing flowers I stepped on crunch and churned. The very noise of the crowd made the screeching sound of no life. As I look closer and closer.
*where is he*
He's there
*where is he*
He's right there
*where*
At the prairies, scattered around are fireflies
He's there, his body is there, lifeless and dismantled with a rope around his neck and a permanent smile stitched over his face.
The sound. Of. Everything.
The breath.
The fireflies around him, so dark blue, so cheerful. Just like him. When he's still
Alive
*Liam?*
*Hmmm*
*What are those, i mean the flying lights, what are those called*
*They're called fireflies, Ret*
*Amazing,you learned that from school right?, I wish I can go to school with
you someday*
*Me too!*
*They're beautiful aren't they?*
*The fireflies you mean?*
*Yes they are*
*Well, I heard somewhere that they're where the souls of the dead resides*
*Maybe one of them is my sister!*
*So that's why they're most likely my favorite thing here in the world*
The end of the thread turned holy grounds of dreamscapes, glimpses of the animated.