oblivion- death

He doesn't belong here. His body knows that, the metal twisted inside of his body starting to pierce his organs. But he wanted to survive. The screaming inside of his head, asked him why. Why did he want to stay, why did he breathe. What was the reason for it? Fear, of the unknown? No, this was no Hamlet moment. This wasn't poetic enough. It was just him, his body in the dark of a hut, alone. It was just.. saddening, really, to come across this child's body as he sat in his own sick.

Here, of course, was this planet. He wasn't from here, his soul stolen, his body breathing toxic air and his body rotting for it. Maybe, perhaps, when he returned, he'd be stronger. Return. His eyes cracked open, their deep blues starting to well with useless tears. No one was coming for him, were they? He had held onto hope, hoping that he'd recover, his lungs wheezing for air and body reeking with heat and the general stench of sickness. It hung heavy, ever-heavy, in the air.

And like a light, he fizzled out. Nothing grand, nothing beautiful. Barely a teenager, barely old enough to care for himself, and he was gone. With time, his body would grow cold, the metal withering and starting to soften- as if his life force had hardened the metal.

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