Story
15 years & 7 months ago
28th Apr 2009 13:53 A random story i wrote because i got very bored.
Me + Boredom = Your brain exploding from reading the worlds worst story.
Note: Awful grammar, punctuation and there might be a couple of typos but there shouldn't be any spelling mistakes.
The rain splashed loudly on the, worn concrete that lined the worn path. Hiding the tears that rolled down my pale face, staining my clothes. I strode slowly through the large gates of the graveyard, leaves crunching softly under my bare feet. I knelled down on the wet grass, a large stone standing mute in front of me. I traced my fingers gently over the gold writing, that marked the white stone. A fresh stream of tears poured out of my eyes, followed my uncontrollable sobs. I lay and encrusted jewel, in the mud surrounding the stone, watching the stones glimmer in the light of a full moon. I rose swiftly, brushing the tears from my red, swollen face.
I chocked back painful sobs, as i turned walking slowly away from everything...everything i had once lived for, but now that it was gone what was the point in continuing to live?. I brushed a stand of ivory hair, back behind my ear from were it had fallen from the long hooded cloak. I pulled the hood down lower, hiding my features under a shadow of black. I walked until i found a small clearing in the woods, a large polished stone, sat in the center. I ran my fingers along it, absorbing the soft touch of the crisp stone. I yanked my hand away suddenly, realising the stone was still dry, despite the rain still falling heavily, from the black clouds, blocking out the comforting rays of moonlight, throwing the forest into complete darkness.
A crimson liquid, oozed down the glimmering stone, as a knife sliced through soft flesh. Ending yet another life, another generation of blood seeping into the rock. My legs crumpled beneath me, i clutched to stone with my free hand, granting it the gift of blood. The scarlet blade slid from my hand, as i released the rock allowing myself to rest in the cold grass. I shut my eyes for the last time, letting death pry me from my cold, stony body.