I Immerse Myself in Sick Reflection
Gerard walked down the cobblestone streets of his small town with no destination in mind.
He looked up to the stars he gazed up at the sky, seeing the stars he had looked up to as recent as the night before with Annabel. The twinkiling in the stars reminded him of her eyes whenever they were together.
"That was effortless."
The Artist walked to a nearby park and sat on the bench. Calm consumed him as he sat idley. He thought of the actions that had transpired that day. "What little regret I have. Does that make me a killer?" he thought. "Am I the face of death? Is it just too easy?Am I just too good at this?"
He shut his eyes and was overcome with the pleasure of the memories. Indulgence, pain and fantasy.
He layed down on the bench and imagined the sweet, sweet voice of his delightful Annabel. Would she still love a shameless murderer?
"This is all a nightmare." The Artist imagined Annabel saying. He contemplated lunacy.
"Let's just say you're right," he whispered to Annabel, "The nightmare ends; we wake up side by side. What makes you think that I would let you live?"
The Artist opens his eyes and stares at the memory he once shared, written in the night sky. "I've really lost my mind."
The Artist stood again, walked to the edge of a cliff, a little ways farther into the park. He over looks the empty valley at the bottom. "Behold! For I am the will of the Reaper," he yells, "standing right behind you."
He turns and exits the commons swiftly.
YOU ARE READING
The Insanity of The Artist (Alesana/MCR)
FanfictionI am here to tell you a story. A story that will torture your thoughts by day and poison your dreams by night. And though I will do my best there are no words that can be written, nor brush strokes laid on canvas that can describe the stark and utt...
