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    Frodo Merkulov
    Sixth Year Prefect
    Sixth Year Prefect

    Posts : 418
    Join date : 2011-12-28
    Age : 22

    fall to pieces | CLOSED

    Post by Frodo Merkulov on Sun Nov 25, 2012 6:57 pm

    RUSSIA - ABANDONED GROUND IN THE AREA OF MOSCOW.


    He had a feeling it was well past midnight. Then again, the pouring rain made it hard for him to actually decipher the time. He could not even recall how he had ended up all the way in Moscow. Was the long walk and the train ride that bought him here? It was not really his choice of place, and yet here he was.

    And for once, Frodo Moria felt utterly clueless.

    The Hitrost knew he should have been looking for a shelter of sorts, especially with the way the rain was pouring down, but he was in the least bit bothered. His hair matted to his forehead and drenched clothes, he probably looked like a rogue, which he contemplated was true in one way. As far as his emotions were concerned, that is. All he wanted to do was collapse on the ground, but there was too much of built up frustration and somehow needed to release it.

    "I thought you were done ruining my life when you took my mother and made me lose my family!" Frodo shouted, looking up to the skies and forgetting the fact that there might have been people around. "But no, you had to steal from me the one person I love also, huh? People are right, you are a damn right cruel!"

    His inner voice sounded incredulous, Who the hell are you shouting at? God? To which he retorted, "I don't know, whoever is upstairs, I think so. Could be Merlin for all I know." With that his resolve broke and the tears fell heavily from his eyes, mixing with the rain drops on his cheeks.

    "I love you Kaitlen, I love you so much," he whispered to himself, as he tried to wipe away his tears with no avail. "I don't care if there is no chance for us, I still want to fight for you."

    It was though there was a soul that was listening to him right now. But he knew it was false, just like every other good thing in his life so far. Picking up a rock from the muddy ground, he threw it as far as he could. Feeling a little better, he picked up another, the rough edges scratching his hands, but he was not bothered.

    Frodo could feel his heart thumping against the rush of emotions he was feeling high on. When did everything get so fucked up? The guilt and the anger was slowing consuming away, all he wanted to do was end it. But he could not, because at the end of the day, there would be someone or something worth living for. He could not leave behind the people he loved, even if they already left him.

    Is that what true loneliness felt like? Anyone else might have been exaggerating, but he really did not have anymore. After all, how could he not feel the pain at having been disowned, friends showcasing hatred and losing his girlfriend? The thought of Kaitlen made him throw the rocks further away from him, like shooting away a bad curse and expecting something better to come his way.

    His arms aching, hands bleeding, the tears still continued to fall. "Where did I go wrong?" Frodo whispered to himself, his shoulders shaking as he collapsed on the ground, the weight on him becoming too much. "All I did was care for them, I should have known that was not enough." He looked up at the sky once more, "I wish you were here Mother, I need to know it's going to be okay. Kaitlen is so angry at me, and I hurt her. I did not mean to, I swear. But it happened. I do not want to be separated from her ever again. Please try to keep her safe."

    And with that, the rain continued to fall, but his last tear drop fell.

    After what seemed like hours, he walked ahead, his hands bleeding out enough off of blood to make someone worry, yet he staggered on somehow. The rain was perhaps more blinding than he thought, because the next thing he knew, he had tripped and hit his head against a big rock and felt his mind fade into nothingness.

    THE NEXT MORNING


    There were raindrops still chattering against the glasspane of a window, it was too loud to be missed. Frodo got up with a groan, feeling a splitting headache. Clutching his hand to his head, he was surprised to find them all bandaged and healed. However, sudden panic overcame him as he took in the unfamiliar surroundings.

    "Oh good, you're awake," a voice told softly and he quickly turned around in on the bed to face the doorway. It was an old woman, perhaps sixty or seventy years, who had spoken. Her hairs were gray on the side and she had the eyes of someone who had possibly seen too much.

    "Yes, um...where am I? Who are you? How did I get here?" The questions seemed to stumble one upon the another, and he could not stop.

    The woman frowned lightly as she entered the room. "Do you not remember? Me and my boys found you unconscious in the rain last night. You were in a terrible condition," she added.

    "I am sorry I was a bother, I'll be leaving now," he muttered and got out of the bed. "Thank you for your help, I am sure I would not have made it were it not for you."

    "Are you sure you're okay, son?" Questioned the woman, ignoring his thanks, feeling not in the least bit obliged. She did it because she had wanted to. "You seem a bit...lost."

    Frodo forced a smile on his face and nodded his head. "I am fine, my loneliness really got to me yesterday. Sort of happens when you realize you have no family or anyone to talk to."

    "The world is a big place my boy, I'm certain you'll find someone." She assured him, a tone of sympathy in her voice.

    "I already had someone....but I think I lost her for good," the Hitrost murmured running his hands through his hair. "We were in a fight a few days back, and that's what led me here actually. I just needed to escape."

    Realizing that he had perhaps said too much, Frodo quickly left the room, drowning out the woman's reply. It took him a few minutes to find the front door, but when he did, he nearly ran out of the place.

    The memories from last night were becoming clear and he almost let out a scared gasp. Was he really breaking piece by piece? Was his mind finally shattering? Hands shaking, his fingers clenched and unclenched, walking quickly as he could, just like he had last night. He did not care that his shirt had blood or jeans were torn. Nor did he care about his messy appearance.

    Frodo just wanted to go back to his life; Kaitlen Atriz Grayson.


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