"Since I met him, he carries more anger and pain than a thousand armies could ever bear," His voice was solemn as he spoke, "He was betrayed, deceived, hurt. Believe me when I say he has already crossed hell, been through it and back. And the only t...
song selection: Moonlit Night from the "Death Parade" (Anime) piano score by Thomas Stapleton
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TOUSLED HAIR OF GOLD BOUNCED TO EVERY STEP HE TOOK AS HE MADE HIS WAY THROUGH THE FOREST: eyes lidded, chest heaving, mouth hung open to a pant. He was aware that he was running low on stamina but he couldn't care less, as long as it was just to get anything for him to be away from the green bastard.
He shuddered at the thought, the thought of him being under his manipulation, his games, what if he was caught? He knew he couldn't outrun him seeing and witnessing firsthand how trained the man was both mind and body, hell he could compare the man's strength to a god's if he may. He was unmatched to face him alone, the thought alone made his pride simmer. But there is no time for thinking at a time like this, the main goal is that he needs to get as far away as possible.
The air pushed wildly on his face as he made his way to the outskirts of the SMP with such vigor, eyes blown wide to a focus trying to take in every route and every path that was shown upon him — adrenaline spiking to its peak as he ran and ran.
Tommy kept looking back on his shoulder, his eyes looking everywhere behind him only to see the smile of the mask he hates to see, his mind was slowly being eaten alive by paranoia. Next came the sound of distant laughter that he knew all too well, that laughter that always seemed to shake him to his core. It was all but an illusion, but to Tommy, it felt too real.
He growled under his breath, this was no time to dawdle, this was the time to run.
It was an endless sky of black he ran under, the only guidance of light he had was the freckle droplets of white paint that littered the sky. If he had the time, he would've admired the numerous little sparks of light, with his friends if he may but today wasn't as forgiving as his dear friend.
His mind then drifted to his friends, his brother, those whom he called comrades; how were they? He hopes they've been well with him gone into exile. He wondered if they were happy without his presence, he wondered if they were glad that he was gone. It's for the best he thought, ignoring the tears that pricked his eyes. Tommy knew how obnoxious he was, he knew how his insults insult people at times, same goes for his actions as well. He knew he had done wrong, countless and countless mistakes. He wasn't arrogant — well, sometimes, but he is but a child, a teenager going through the hardest of times. He's seen and been through hell and back.
And for this war? He knew that he had no one but himself to blame.
If time was kinder if the people were kinder, would they treat him differently?
Would they be forgiving? Would they give him — and the teenagers who were caught into the crossfire some rest as well?
Bile started to rise in his throat, his eyes started to prick more of tears and his legs started to feel wobbly. He was running out of time, running out of energy. He needed to find shelter.
