This is a story about what we have and what we don't. This is a story about those who are here, and those who are gone. This is a story about good and evil. This is a story about me and you.
This is a story about what he could do, and what I could not.
I had all I needed. It was a paradise that I didn't appreciate. I could listen to their laughs, I could see their smiles. I could walk out of my room and smell the nostalgic aroma of a home cooked meal, I could talk to them any time I wanted, I could see them by just opening my eyes. Now, I can only imagine them, with my eyes closed.
The sun beamed down on a flourishing rain forest. Inside, a boy could be seen hiding under a collapsed tree, holding his knees to his chest on the floor. Within his eyes, an abyss.
How many days has it been? I can't think right anymore. I can only think about everyone leaving. They were there, then they weren't. What happened? My brain couldn't comprehend any of it.
I audibly laugh
What is this? What is happening to me?
I felt an urge to bang my head on the nearest tree until I killed myself. The only thing stopping me was the sliver of hope that everyone was still alive. If all of this is real, then maybe they are still alive, somewhere.
The more I thought about things the more I felt my soul being torn apart, a battle between hope and despair. A battle that continued to rage within my mind as I continued to survive in this foreign, dangerous place.
The boy continued to survive in the forest for one week. By the dawn of the 7th day, he was on the verge of death. His face was sunken in, his body was riddled with infected scars, sleep and food were scarce and death was soon to come.
I stared up at the peaking sun. It brought back memories I didn't want to remember. I didn't want to think about them, but as I felt my body failing me, I couldn't stop myself. Suddenly, I was back there. Back with my family. Our family trip was an event I looked forward to every year. We always woke up extra early on the first day to explore the new place we were visiting, watching the sunrise together was always the first thing we did. It was a time that I knew I would reminiscence upon, but I didn't know that time would come so soon. I didn't know that it would hurt this bad so soon. I didn't know things would end so soon.
I stumble down near a pond as I thought back on life. I collapsed to the ground and my face was inches away from the dirty green water. My tears began contributing to the small body of water.
As I cry into the pond, I notice a shimmering object right below the shallow waters. A ring? Once again, memories flood my mind.
"Roman, I am not getting you more jewelry!! You have too much, I regret getting you that first ring!" My mother joked with me as I shoveled down food.
I laugh with a mouthful of food, "Mom! If there's anything you taught me, it's that you can never have too much jewelry, or clothes, or shoes. And let me tell you, I plan to stand by this very important lesson."
We both giggled.
I smiled with so much genuine happiness back then.
I use the last bit of my energy to stretch my exhausted arms past my reach and grab the ring.
It's a silver circular ring. I notice intricate inscribings etched into the ring. I gawk at the glimmering piece of art for a few seconds.
I smile.
I wonder if Lissandra would've liked this on me. I wonder where she is. I hope she's ok.
As my vision begins fading, I decide what I want to do before I die.
I put the ring on.
As my left hand slips the ring onto my right middle finger, I'm surprised to find that the ring fits snug on my finger.
Then, once the ring reaches as far as it can down onto my finger, my arms collapse to my sides. Holding them up in the air was a mighty task for my depleted body, but I manage it.
I turn my head to the side as I'm sprawled on the forest floor and admire the ring as my final act.
I'm sorry everyone, I couldn't make it very far. I don't know if this is all a dream, a world my mind created before I die but it's over now.
I'll miss you. Hopefully I get to see you soon.
I close my eyes and never intend to open them again.