a new earth . tyrone's last

Ty's chest bursts forward from the impact of the bullet from behind. His face buries deep into the moss green ground, suffocating him with the taste of something fresh and alive. It mocks as he struggles to pull himself upward and out from the dirt. His shoulders give in to death's demands with every push. Tyrone cannot get up. He cannot move. Cannot breathe. What remains are the most minute things: a pair of slowly blinking eyes and a mouth whose jaw does not possess the energy to shut.

He hears them all leaving, retreating as his immobile corpse permits them to leave. Ty wonders if Cedric will come to say goodbye, but he's left fruitless in hope and reality. Why would he? The guy is out for himself, and Tyrone knew that the moment he agreed to align with him. This moment is not like the others. No one has the time to harbor his dying body in their jeep, waiting for a hovercraft to begin their descent. Nobody will look on as his body dangles from a machine claw, ascending. Maybe that's the worst part about death so late, he's spent the last few days mourning everyone that he cared about and everyone who cared about him. This is what happens when you cannot protect the ones that you love. They die. And then you die with nobody by your side.

The thumping sounds of the dinosaurs continuing their feud frightens him. All of the pain persists, despite the resignation to his death. The shaking earth terrifies him, especially as the vibrations become closer and harder each time. What if they trample him with their huge feet and crush him to death? Will he feel that like the bullet in his back or the burns on his shoulder?

Tyrone wants to die feeling no pain. Five days, hell, seventeen years, of feeling everything under the sun. His body owes him a moment of solace at least.

The grass brushes against his body, soothing, like a soft hand grabbing his wrist. The wind sprinkles dirt across his cheek and on his lower lip. It drags the slate blue and golden flowers inside his mouth, poking gums. They pull further down and Tyrone coughs, the gasp of pressure forcing them up again. But it's a battle between mother and human nature. He's no match for the powers that be. They re-enter his mouth with some dirt and soil now, stale against his tongue.

He submits to the earth entering his throat, growing vines, moss, grass, and more flowers in there. Or at least, that's what he's hoping. Put something beautiful in his body for once. Tyrone has never made love, never been called beautiful, never been held in the name of love. Nothing beautiful exists in his memories.

Ty feels his energy fleeting. His neck turns and his head falls sideways. The gusts of wind grow more and more violent. Leaves and flowers rip from their place in the trees and the ground. They flood his mouth, stuffing it with all the necessities for a proper ecosystem. His jaw drags upward, chewing on the dirt and greenery. Swallow.

The flowers, dirt, leaves, grass.

Nature.

The dampness soaking his mouth, both saliva and water released from the dirt.

Water.

He turns his body with all he has left, letting the sun poking through stormy clouds shine through in his open mouth.

Sunlight.

There is no air left in his lungs, only carbon dioxide.

A dandelion dangles from the corner of his lips.

An ecosystem exists within him now.

Something beautiful.

When he no longer lives, nature will take his place.

At last...





At last.