Post by Sleeves on Mar 4, 2014 17:24:00 GMT
041
Death
Daedarus is first acquainted with Death when he is nine years old.
Death is a simple thing for him to grasp. It is the silence at the end of a symphony. It is the absence and the void that both preserves and negates all that precedes it. No more breathe, no more thought, no more being.
No more Francis.
What he does not understand is why mother does not weep and why Father does not seem to care. He does not understand how his siblings can continue playing, uninhibited by the grief that should be weighing heavy on their shoulders. As if little Francis, with his frail frame and wide, lurid eyes and shaky smile and Magic that smelled of cinnamon and sickness has never shared the same air as they.
Daedarus is the only one who cries. He cries for the loss of a brother and a playmate. He cries for the loss of human life. He cries because the Earth cries. Her song is of sorrow and of hope and of dreadful finality. Daedarus is the only one who hears it because he is the only one who listens.
Father says that it is a waste to spend money on flowers from marketplace, so Daedarus lays a water lily from the nearby pond on his brother’s grave.
The summer of 1903 is the last time he cries and the last time he shows the dead any such respect.
Because while psychopaths are born, sociopaths are made.
Death is a simple thing for him to grasp. It is the silence at the end of a symphony. It is the absence and the void that both preserves and negates all that precedes it. No more breathe, no more thought, no more being.
No more Francis.
What he does not understand is why mother does not weep and why Father does not seem to care. He does not understand how his siblings can continue playing, uninhibited by the grief that should be weighing heavy on their shoulders. As if little Francis, with his frail frame and wide, lurid eyes and shaky smile and Magic that smelled of cinnamon and sickness has never shared the same air as they.
Daedarus is the only one who cries. He cries for the loss of a brother and a playmate. He cries for the loss of human life. He cries because the Earth cries. Her song is of sorrow and of hope and of dreadful finality. Daedarus is the only one who hears it because he is the only one who listens.
Father says that it is a waste to spend money on flowers from marketplace, so Daedarus lays a water lily from the nearby pond on his brother’s grave.
The summer of 1903 is the last time he cries and the last time he shows the dead any such respect.
Because while psychopaths are born, sociopaths are made.
