Author: ulysses lefebvre
Chapter 4: part one: the true beginning
A faint wailing sound present in the distance, there was a faint humming sound in my ear. I was part of an accident. My vision was still blurry, but I felt more, it felt as if I forgot something, something much more important, much more valuable. I was crawling, weeping on the ground. Tears and tears were flowing out uncontrollably like a gush of wind onto my cheeks. She was dead, a frail body, pale so, so pale, like a sleeping beauty, but something was off, her cold expression and eyes, she was dead. “why… why did she die, why...!?” sobbing, crying, yelling, I felt every possible emotion, I was angry, sad, regretful, I held her tender body close to mine. As I held her almost weightless body, her cold hands, her cold face, I couldn’t hold back my tears I crumbled, I layed my head on her stomach. I felt something much colder, much, much colder, a liquid dripping from her back and onto my hand, I shook, I feared I could only wish I was hallucinating, but those efforts where in vain, as I let go of her body, I shivered at what was yet to come, a red almost black liquid on my hand enough to fill a cup, I was cold, very cold. I hugged myself as an attempt to gather warmth but all it did was remind me of the pain inside my chest, my love, my only love was now gone. A memory that still haunts me to this day. I had just woken up, my alarm clock was ringing buzzing, I sat up and turned it off, “huff…” I sighed. I stood up and slowly walked downstairs, the stairs where cracking and gave off a sense of homeliness. there my mom greeted me “Good morning, go eat your breakfast”…she paused and thought “…also your friend sent an invitation to a party in the mail, you don’t have to go of course but I think you should, I mean ever since you know… you haven’t smiled much and I think this will make you happier” she handed me the paper and left for the kitchen. I sat and stared at the invitation, a branch of sunlight landing right on to the envelope, I toke the letter and sat on my dining room chair, it was a relaxing morning, it felt calm, so calm that I could see dust flying and floating through the rays of light.


ulysses lefebvre
this is where the story starts
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