Rigel nodded gravely, his fingers trembling somewhat as he stepped up to the marble tombstone, its silent glory visible even in the near-pitch-black darkness permeating the graveyard. In his left hand was a piece of parchment, yellowed with age, and covered with black writing. It had been stapled clumsily to a translucent strip of white lace, but as though to counteract any notions of lack of care, it had been signed at the bottom with red text that displayed a signature; "Rigel Lake."
Stiffly, he knelt down, to read the inscription upon the white stone, then peered back down at the paper. After a few seconds, he heaved a sigh and placed the piece of paper precariously upon the top of the gravestone.
To A Dear Friend,
Did you expect me to take the news so badly?
I think you did.
Handling bereavement is a hard time for everyone, isn't i-
*The rest of the line is smudged so to be unreadable.*
I don't think you'd foresee that I'd do this, though.
You know, you were one of my best friends here. The loss of you; well, it's a big thing. It really is.
I know what you'd say. That I had to try hard to move on.
I'm trying. I am. Really.
Words can't express what I feel in my heart
It's like a knife-blade in my soul.
Dropping deep within a pit, a mire
Or maybe, just dropping cold.
This loss isn't the easiest to take
You'd probably know that too.
So why do you torture me thus
When this is nothing like what I've been through?
Yes, I'm exaggerating somewhat to myself
This tale I've managed to spin and bend.
But, if so, what is this hole, this chasm
That you've clearly managed to rend?
So help me, my friend.
The End.
This letter is dedicated to KirstieKaos, brought here on Sun Dec 21, 2008 12:41 A.M., and passed away from here on Sat May 09, 2009 10:35 P.M.
Last edited by
Discipline on Sat May 09, 2009 8:12 pm, edited 1 time in total.