A Rabbit And A Deer

Lost Trail, Lost Heart

 
   Aiden leaned against the blue marble counter, sighing loudly. Earlier when he called for Avavell, there was no answer, not after the bribes, the threats, nothing.

  He looked around the house slowly, eyes drifting from one wall to the other, stopping at the rug in the living room. He and Avavell, in the cold months, would cuddle on the floor telling stories and sharing secrets.

  He sighed again. Everything feels emptier now.

   Aiden stood up and made his mind. Instead of moping around, he should find Avavell. And that boy is going to get it when he's found.

  Opening the door, he left, not looking back.

   It's dark, almost pitch black. The walls are closing in, everything's quiet. The air is thick, it's getting dense. White hair now looks dark gray.

  Avavell's hand brushes the dirt wall, soil crumbling down the side. He let out a heavy breath. It's difficult to breathe. It's getting close to too dense.

    Though it's uncomfortable, maybe even a bit dangerous, he looks forward, eyes unclouded; focused.

  Aiden trudges to the forest, the one right in front of the house, just a few yards away. Green and brown, the regulars of the woods, pass him by, as he does them. Only one goal: Find Avavell.

   The trees close in, and an old dirt path appears. Nearby plants are bent and crooked, meaning someone was here earlier. Someone with white hair and light brown eyes. Maybe hazel.

  The birds are quiet now, as is the wind. Everything is still. Hushed. Lonely.

   Brows furrowed, Aiden plodded on, silently cursing Avavell. How could he disappear like that? Not even a note.

  He looked about, brows still knitted together in frustration. Little flowers framed the old path; tinkling blue, bright yellow, dappled orange. As he was turning his head -to look back at the ground in a pout - Aiden caught a blur of white. Avavell.

  He rushed to the right, determined to catch him, maybe get in a kick or two.

  As he got closer to the white patch, he slowed down. It wasn't Avavell. Or anyone at all. Just a white rose. Just a rose. Aiden sighed again. This time, his eyebrows lowered, and his eyes closed.

  He squatted down, hugging his knees, head resting atop his arms. It's so lonely....

  Before Aiden met Avavell, he was a mess. Rushing to his job and still ending up late, messy house, skipped meals, always tired and alone, until he met Avavell. He changed everything. He made Aiden a better person. Or rather, made him realize how good he actually was.

  To Aiden, Avavell was everything. His light, his happiness, his love, his home. When Avavell leaves though, he takes Aiden's heart with him. Aiden is left with a hole in his chest.

   Not a regular hole that can easily be filled with music or food, or someone else. It's a large, gaping black hole, that slowly eats away at him. It's not even one that goes all the way through him. It's halfway. He feels missing without Avavell. Like his heart is gone so he's cold, but he knows it's not true. He knows he can feel heat, it just doesn't feel right. Like he can't enjoy anything without Avavell. As if Avavell is what let's him feel like himself, what let's him function, what let's him live, what let's Aiden be Aiden.

  His hands tightened around his legs. He can't get up. He can't do anything. He's alone again. And the hole is clawing it's way deeper. It's spreading to his neck, it's grasping his throat and constricting it, and he can't breathe.

   Aiden shakes on the forest floor, trying to hold it in, thinking if he can stop it, he'll be able to find Avavell sooner. But it's too late, it's already spread too fast.

  Aiden sits, slowly sinking into the black. It's cold, so, so cold. It's lonely, it's dark, freezing, infinite, inescapable. His mind is spiraling down and down and down. Too much.
 

   But the wind cares not of his feelings, and blows. The chilly gust whips at Aiden, bringing him back to reality.

  He looks up, right at the rose. Tears still cascading down his cheeks.

  It's pretty, he'll give it that. Soft, glowing petals, gently folded towards the center, where it seems protected from the world. It doesn't look fragile, or, the right kind of fragile. If you picked it, surely it should wither, but the stem is thick and strong, placed in water it would continue to grow. Maybe it'd draw water from the air, just to prove how unfaltering it is.

  It's frailty is something else. Not existence or proving it was here, far from it. But rather, if it's petals unfolded, just enough to unveil the center, and it told you all it's secrets and weaknesses, it's fragility would come from you. From trusting itself to you, all it's whispers and fears, memories and keepsakes.

  All it's love.

  Pushing himself off the ground, he gently touched the stem, barely brushing it with his fingertips. Careful of the thorns, Aiden picked the rose off the stem. He cradled it in his palms, staring at it's beauty. He loved it. And he knew why.

  It reminded him of Avavell.

  He wasn't alone anymore.