Flowers [A TMF FanFiction]

Epilogue

Repeating.
Repeating.
Repeating.

That's all that was happening to Drew.
This wasn't just Dejá Vu.
It's not all just a dream.

This world is full of impurities. Described to be a flower in which contains toxicity in its petals.

It is but a song crafted from anguished screams and painful tones. An oh so beautiful yet disgusting tune written with the blood of man.

An endless labyrinth of pain and sorrow, just an eternal weaving of a story. It is nothing but a monolithic story put together and weaved with threads made of blood and muscle, and needles carved from the bones of a human.

He wanted nothing more than to stand in front of a beautifully carved stone, in which his name was etched onto. He would be able to look behind him and see the ones who treasured him like a gardener who tends his plants.

He laughed, as he failed to find a reason to get out of bed. He stayed where he was, he lacked the strength to move.

There was just one thing he wanted to do. The last thing he wanted to do.

He picked up his violin, and played his final tune with it. He played a tune which depicted a sleeping hermitage awaiting for revival. Like Winter waiting for the parfum of Spring to finally takes its place, as the world wakes up once again.

He sings along to the lyrics, yearning for the one he loved as written in the song. He too wished that Jake would hold his hands, he wished that they could share a kiss, he wished they could sing together like this.

He was just one too fragile for this.
He was just so sensitive.

If he were to see something poor and fragile, he wished he could pick it up and love it. He wished that he didn't put up such an image for being a bully.

To him, he would pick up anything which didn't get what they deserved and love it and make them feel important. If he dropped it, he would pick it up and love it again. And that's just how he wished he could be, who he really is.

He wished the curse would just end, and he would finally fly to the heavens, even falling into the underworld would be better. He opened his eyes, and found himself in his bed again.

For once, had he finally awoken from the eternal slumber of death?

Or would he fall asleep again, back to square one all over again?