He had navy blue eyes and his skin was awfully pale. The poor boy sat on his knees, legs wide open and his head up. He cried and cried and cried. He cried until the word cry wouldn't be able to justify all of his tears. In his large pale hands were pools of a deep red liquid. A red liquid that nobody would want. It was blood. The blood of his last hope.
But who was this boy? Obviously he wasn't blind to pain, but then again, this was only the start of his pain. Edgar's hands shook violently, the little pools of blood splashing everywhere. He cried again but no tears came, he screamed till his lungs gave out. Edgar's body ache, from what? Crying. He wanted to run- He needed to run- from these voices. If it was up to him, he could grieve all day to the loss of his mother, but he had no choice. He had to leave, but he didn't want to do it alone.
"I love you mother." Edgar said as he took the corpse's hand, "I've always have, I know I was wrong but please trust me with this one. Please." He looked down and wiped his eyes with his long maroon sleeve. He slowly started to stand, and fished out a lighter from his pocket.
"I love you mother." He said to the small flame. "Let this be the best for both worlds. Till we meet again mother. Farewell." He sniffled as he lit his mother's corpse, starting from her brunet hair.
"We will see death together mom. Maybe I can see you again in the afterlife. Just maybe, but I still hope for the maybe, because the maybe is all I got. You're my maybe I'm dying for. My maybe."
The fire was wild now, it would be hard to put it out now, but that not what Edgar wanted to do. He felt that he had committed too many sins to continue living. Even the voices told him so, and his world was full of voices. Everything he adore was gone now, anything he would do now would be hopeless. He stood there looking down at his mother, watching the flames consumed her. The poor boy and his mother would hopefully be reunited again, leaving the father clueless to why his two loved ones are gone. Or one to be more precise. Why his wife was gone, for his son he could care less about.
It was a tragic story really. The boy loved his mom with all his heart, but the she didn't. The navy blue eyed boy grew up with very little love, so little we would consider it nothing. But to the naive boy, it was everything. Little Edgar would do anything for his mother, but little did he know the way she thought of him. A women being physically and mentally abused by her wealthy husband and a child who has been diagnosed with schizophrenia at a young age, she hated her life. She hated herself for falling into this vicious trap.
But most of all, she hated her son. Edgar was the reason she had to marry her boyfriend. She never liked Richard (her boyfriend) in the first place, but only tried to please him because of his insane amount of money. She could bathe in his money, she could be semi-happy with Richard. But instead her mental son brought her down. Nothing brought her more happiness than her blood spilling out of her wrist. Not even Richard's money. With a sharp knife, she ended her life, and her blood was spilling out of her. She would get her wish and hopefully be happy.
She was happy, she didn't have to deal with her mental son, and mediocre husband. But her son.
Edgar was not happy.
Edgar was dying in his own grief and sorrow.
Edgar's beautiful blue eyes stayed opened until he saw nothing.
The same knife his mother had used to commit suicide with, was now Edgar's. Edgar's key to another world. A world that the living can not see, or to him, his way to escape.
