Ash timber limbs hang motionless in the snowy field. Snow slowly drift's down to the ground while a little boy named Mason Thorn lay's down on the ground. Motionless. The black sky up ahead shine's with a full blue-gray moon and starless sky. Wolves howl in the distance on a ridge over looking the river. The river that tool Mason's sister away.
A soft tears forms in his eye then rolls down fast, s if to get away from the incoming snow drift. The boy's face turn's pale , the worn out blue wool sweater jacket soaks up the snow that he melt's with his body heat. Mason yawn's with sleepiness and boredom, his eyelids become heavy.
“Protect me dear angle's of warmth and love. Protect those that will miss me in my journey to the after life”
Just before Mason's eyes were completely covered he could hear the snow crunch under running feet; the voice's of the village and his family.
“Mason!”cried his mother
His mother Nelly kneels down next to her five year old son. She cradle's his head in her arms. The matching blue knitted hat fall's off, leaving short brown messy hair. Nelly moves on of her hands away from the back of his head and screams.
A blood stained hand. Her son's blood. She holds her son's head with both hands and presses his head against her chest. Bowing her head on to him she sob's. Mason's father Dabiel comes up behind his wife, kneels down with her. He places a comforting arm around her.
The others come and circle them, they say a prayer up to the Heaven's.
“Angel of life and Angel of death, make his journey of after life a amazing one. Tell him we will pray for his well being in god's land and we will say we shall see you again in the place we all go”
Alle Rechte an diesem Beitrag liegen beim Autoren. Der Beitrag wurde auf e-Stories.org vom Autor eingeschickt Mikayla Powell.
Veröffentlicht auf e-Stories.org am 08.12.2009.