The Story Book Project

Lost Things { Complete }

He saw fog. All around him. Thick, moist and impenetrable. It trapped him, making him suffocate. His eyes watered and his lungs cried out. He could not see his arms or legs. He could not see anything. A scream tore through his throat as panic settled its bright red claws into his heart. Blood dripped from the fangs his panic attack bore. The world swam before his eyes. He began running. Left, then right. Or was it right, then left? The fog muddled his senses. Where was he? Where was his parents? Was life that cruel to him as to leave him trapped in the smoke?

Help me. I feel so lost. I am dying.

Suddenly, colour filled his vision. He could finally see something. the red plumage of the horse drawn carriage floated before his eyes. And he collasped. A tear ran down his face and fell down the sides of his ears. A strangled cry escaped his mouth in a vainfull attempt to cry out for help. As black replaced the blinding red, a single thought raced across his mind in circles.

This is your redemption.

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She saw fog. All around her. Thick, moist and impenetrable. It trapped her, making her suffocate. Her eyes watered and her lungs cried out. She could not see her arms or legs. She could not see anything. A scream tore through her throat as panic settled its bright red claws into her heart. Blood dripped from the fangs her panic attack bore. The world swam before her eyes. She began running. Left, then right. Or was it right, then left? The fog muddled her senses. Where was she? Where was her parents? Was life that cruel to her as to leave her trapped in the smoke?

Help me. I feel so lost. I am dying.

Suddenly, colour filled her vision. She could finally see something. the red plumage of the horse drawn carriage floated before her eyes. And she collasped. A tear ran down her face and fell down the sides of her ears. A strangled cry escaped her mouth in a vainfull attempt to cry out for help. As black replaced the blinding red, a single thought raced across her mind in circles.

This is your redemption.

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You see, the both of them, the two children were alone. In a cloudy room devoid of the colour of life. Without a guiding hand, what could the two of them do but sink into despair, confident help was never going to come. Hope neither existed in their vocabulary nor their hearts.

But there is no reason to fret or worry. These unsightly sights will be promptly removed from your eyes. It is okay to continue with life as it were, nobody needs to remember them. None of you even knew them in the first place, so no harm done.

Just a little shove here and a little push there, and done. The ground beneath our feet have never been greener, don't you agree? Ah, opps, a little fly flew into my mouth. What an inconvenience, am I right?

What was that? You wonder about the two of them?

Why?

Why do you care now? They are gone. Dead now. They will not come back. I think what you mean to say was that you only care now that they are six feet underground. Actually, i think you really meant that you care for them now that I have told you about them. What good does it do? You can not raise the dead, and have the story of Frankenstein and Victor Frankenstein playing God taught us anything? No, they have reached the point of no return. What can we do but pity them. But who wants pity.Even children who vie for attention would never settle for pity. It is a pity to pity.

There was no reason to bring up this story of lost children. Although, I was never talking about lost children.

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* a twist to the prompt ' Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end, if not always in the way we expect.'

Word Count, not inclusive of the prompt or this line : 662