Through the deserted forest there was a cry. A cry slicing the thick silence; a cry so full of rage and anger. It was the sound of nails crossing a chalkboard in order to attract attention of a disobedient adolescence. It was the painful retched sound of a child screaming, one who had lost his way through he Promised Land. Abandoned by his kin, left to die, stranded in a place so cold and so deprived of joy. He was on his own in a deep and disastrous rage which would soon be his demise, his indefinite home. His only thoughts were to die, to live no longer, and to scorch his tender flesh with whatever he could find in order to no longer continue the never ending search of security. He wanted to die as such sinners do. The world stood about and enjoyed their life. They didn’t think about what lied beyond their own boundaries and if they did, they wouldn’t care.
The trees mocked him, birds stalked him, and the leaves flocked their way at him as the wind blew heavier. It knocked him over and weighed him down as if it were his own shame pushing him to the end. Left alone in a sate of wild depression, he grew angry at all that he construed. He reminisced on the poem where the Raven quoth, “nevermore” for the loss of Poe’s Eleanor. Was he also to be nevermore? To think of this burned his aching heart. It put him in a state of maniac insanity. His body was his straight jacket holding him from the world, and mind was the key to the padded room, if only he could find it, he could escape and survive. There was no way this young lad could get out. His sentence was to be forbidden to see what could have lied ahead of him.
That’s when he saw it. In a second his heart fell to the ground, and he stood still in his track. He stood more still than a corpse and his pigment became ghostly. It was misery on four legs, had antlers of severe pain and look only found in that of a murderer’s eyes. They say you see your life flash before your eyes before you die, and he did. All the way back to infancy, he saw all the pain he caused others and the pain bestowed on him. Tears streamed down his mud wrecked face and in a blink he saw how quickly his end was coming. A silent gun shot was fired and the boy ran with a fierce passion that his mind froze blank. He looked up to the sky and screamed, “God, why have you forsaken me? Save me, save me, and LET ME GO, LET ME GO HOME. TAKE ME OUT OF THIS DECIETFUL WORLD. GOD PLEASE JUST LET ME GO, STRIKE ME DEAD INSTEAD OF LETTING ME GO DOWN LIKE THIS.” His curse had caught up with him. The past 18 years of his worthless life was now his cause of decease. The beast saw the blessing of Satan marked upon his soul, and when the beast caught up with him he stood clearly 4 feet over the boy. It deviously smiled and drooled for the demonic child in which it would save the world from.
The boy was trapped between trees, ditches, and a monster. A creature beyond this world, and only nightmares could make it real. Was he dreaming, or was he apart of someone’s dream, the boy wondered. The boy ran faster and faster, his heart beat heavier and heavier. He could hear it in his ear, feel it in his chest as if it were to fall out. This was it. The monster jumped in front of him, and before the boy could realize it, the beast had jumped atop of him. Shredding him to pieces, screaming with horror, and agony the boy screamed for his own dear life. He asked Jesus to accept him into heaven, but he already knew he was going to be rejected. He yelled into the night and with one last horrible crackle and rip, silence struck.
Through the thick, dark, deserted cry, there cried a boy “nevermore”.
