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by Guest 5/24/2013, 11:00 pmLuke sat at the edge of the cliff, very quietly, oh so silently. It was as if nithing else existed: merely him, the cliff, and his thoughs.
And what was he thinking?
Those who didn't know him would believe that he was thinking of Kronos. Of regret. Of hatred.
But those who did, they knew.
They knew too, that sitting on the cliff was just another day for him. They would not feel alarmed. They would just wish. That he would let go of the pain he put himself through because he was more worth it than he believed.
He didn't believe.
And see, he only believed in the little nothings of him. He believed that people would never look at him the same again, he believed that his friends would never be more than a small few.
He believed that she would never love him back.
His friends should have felt alarmed. Yes, they did at first, when he sat there every day. Yes, they were always worried, because of his personality change. But after a while they knew it was just an everyday. It was just a routine. Like putting you shoes in a certain corner before you go to bed. Again and again.
But today he felt diffirent. This feeling, this dread. He always felt that. He hated it.
Today he felt those emotions tearing through his cheast, severing every blood line that lead to his heart. It was a million times more painful than that. And he bowed his head.
And a single tear fell.
Luke stood at the edge of the cliff, very quietly, oh so silently.
He looked back.
He wished that she was here to stop him, to make him not do it.
But she wasn't.
And nor was he; anymore.
