TW : Death, Suicide, War, Blood, that's all I can think of
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The sound of raging fire and yells filled the soldier’s ears. He let out a sob, looking down at his dead brother, his hands covered with his brother’s blood.
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War, what a hideous thing, he thought as tears dripped down from his eyes as he stared down at his brother’s dull, pale ones. Those beautiful eyes used to hold so much life and light in them. And now that light was gone. All because power-hungry men wanted to rule the world.
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He clutched the purple rock in his hand. His little sister had given it to him.
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“A lucky charm,” she had said with a bright smile. “Hold it with you! You’ll come back to me safely!”
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His heart ached, his expression was grief-stricken. Oh, what would she think when she realises her dear brothers are never coming back?
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He screamed at the sky, watching with hope, a storm of bombs heading in their direction.
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The soldiers started running back but he stayed, holding the body of his brother.
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If I can’t protect myself or my brother or my country, he looked down at the rock in his hands, I will die protecting the love of my sister.
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He held his brother’s body close to his chest, his other hand curling protectively around the rock.
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The ashen sky mercifully rained death upon him.
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* * *
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Matthew looked at the rock in his hand. It was purple, and quite small. He held it up to the sun and smiled when it glowed.
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Beautiful, he thought.
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He had never seen a rock like this before. He had been walking on the beach, relishing the feel of soft sand underneath his feet, when he spotted this vibrant little thing on the ground.
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His mother told him that on this very beach he was walking on, a war had taken place.
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“So many men had died that day,” his mother had croaked out. She had seemed to be on the verge of tears. “Y-you had two uncles, you know? They h-had gone to war too. They’d become brave men who served their country, ready to protect me and our family. You would have loved them Matthew . And they would have loved you.”
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Mother rarely talks about his uncles, so when she does he always listens carefully, trying to figure out what kind of people they were, what they looked like. What he had gathered so far was quite vague. It wasn’t enough. He had always wanted to meet them but he knew he couldn’t. He wished he could ask his mother more about them, but he wouldn’t want to hurt her.
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Matthew flung the rock in his hand slightly, catching it at the perfect moment. He shoved his other hand in his pocket.
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The war had ended eighteen years ago, right on his birthday. His mother had named him Matthew that day, meaning ‘A gift of God’.
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He wished God had blessed him enough to save his uncles.
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* * *
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Laura stared at her husband with love and happiness in her eyes. She watched as her husband recited the words, “I, Alexander Renell, take you, Laura Greenwood, to be my wife. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honour you all the days of my life."
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Her heart swelled with joy as her eyes glittered with unshed tears. Her husband grinned at her, trying to force back the tears that threatened to fall.
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“I, Laura Greenwood, take you, Alexander Renell, to be my husband. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honour you all the days of my life."
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She watched with amazement as the love of her life gently took her hand, slipping a beautiful ring on her finger. It was a silver ring, at the centre of the ring was a pretty, purple stone. He gently raised her hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss to each of her knuckles.
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She couldn’t control herself and she grabbed her man by the neck, joining their lips together in a colourful kiss. She drowned out the loud cheers in the back-ground, just admiring the man in her arms.
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She promised herself to honour these oaths until she took her very last breath. And if the next life exists, she would gladly love him in his next life too.
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* * *
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Madeline chuckled dryly, glaring at the glimmering ring in her palm. Her mother said that the rock in the ring gives luck and happiness to anyone who possesses it. Then why is she standing on a cliff, holding the rock in her hands, tears dripping down her cheeks? She enjoyed the beautiful view of the ocean at midnight, the endless map of stars shining brilliantly, reflecting itself on the clear, blue mirror below it.
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The songs of the wind and the roars of the waves comforted her, eased her anxiety. She was afraid, so afraid of what she was about to do. Her crimson dress was ruffled from the breeze. But she also knew that she would finally find comfort. She would find peace. She would no longer have to wake up to another say, knowing she was nothing but a burden to others, nothing but a waste of space.
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The only thing that had kept her alive till now was the ring she held. The ring was said to be about two-hundred years old, and it held many years of history in it. She couldn’t just let it be lost by the waves. So Madeline placed a soft kiss on the ring, setting it on the ground.
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“Give me death,” Madeline whispered to no one. “Give it to me.”
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The woman turned around and spread her arms wide. And she fell. The last thing she had seen were the stars, soothing her into a painful sleep.
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* * *
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A boy walked towards a cliff, angry at the world. Angry at everything and nothing. He picked up random rocks, throwing them at the sea. In his rage and fury, he had not realised he had thrown away a precious ring that had many lives, memories and stories bound to it. He had thrown away a rock that had survived through war, love and peace.
Now it stays still, at the bottom of the ocean, forgotten and castaway.
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