Alden Graves D11 [CB!Fin]

"Have you lived through death? Felt the fear of death in your soul? Breathed in the decay of your emptiness? Burned so bright that you couldn't breath? Have you seen death? Do you even know how someone could suffer?" The bile burns through his throat. Sentiment held up in the form of anger through his veins; a bloodstream of anger clouding his head from the rationale. Fingers tensed up, forming the fists at his sides as another boy stares at him with a cold stare. The spray cans of paint left on the ground where purples and blues mix together. A pool of misery to be left with the grave stones painted over with the lack of respect kids carry when misery is all they feel.

Alden Graves had lost his cool already. Chills wracking through his entire being with an assault of frustration. Normally, Alden wouldn't scream at a couple of kids daring to ruin some gravesites, but he's seen the living who mourn. The tears dropping down from a pain breaking them apart in the most unnatural way. The way people look to him as if begging him to bring life back to the corpses he watches over. The words of his mother and father always pushing him to comfort the living who've never loss before then. Their eyes always filled over with a haunted look dimming away the shine of the life before. As the two children stare up at him with tears in their eyes, he can remember the way he'd grown up lost in the fields of Eleven. The seas of grain never-ending in his vision as he could feel scared. A sigh drips from his throat as he looks up carefully, letting his anger subside. "Know you've signed yourself up to be haunted, kids. Better clean it off or death will find you."

Death is an endless sea of cold. Those kids didn't understand death yet. Soon enough they'll learn the reaper is watching with a scythe of fear. Either way, scaring them to do the work was the better option.

Alone once more.

Alden Graves is left in the field of death.

Home.