Post by Isaac Lahey on Apr 4, 2014 21:30:19 GMT -5
Nobody ever said that victory came without casualties.
They say the good die young, but they never really tell you that they never die alone.
We all fall down. Bury a bit our souls six feet under ground.
If you die, then we die with you.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Isaac wanted to sigh as he walked across the cemetery, dragging his shovel with him. It was rather quiet out, with the exception of some crickets. It was a rather peaceful night. He was rather tired, but he had a job to do. Even though his father had passed away, Isaac still tended to the cemetery. Someone had to.
It wasn't fair to those who had loved ones in this place. Isaac didn't have the heart to see it fall apart or fall into a state of being unloved. He had spent so much time with the dead here, they knew his secrets. This had always been a home away from home and he wanted to continue to repay this place for taking him in.
He straightened a couple of knocked over candles, relighting them. A couple other graves, he tugged weeds out. Music played through his headphones that rested around his neck. He was never able to actually put them in his ears, as they blocked out his ability to listen for any sign of danger. The familiar song playing through the ear-buds allowing him to get lost in his work of tending to the graves.
He had a grave that he had to finish digging, the backhoe waiting for him. But he still had plenty of time to dig it. It was only a little before midnight. With the backhoe, he could finish it by by one, two at the latest. So Isaac took his time, making sure that all the existing graves were taken care of.
But he paused, flashlight shining on three familiar gravestones. He just stared at them, unsure if he should even say a word to the dead who resided under the earth stood on. To anyone who didn't know him, he probably looked like someone looking to vandalize the place. Why else did people hang in the graveyard? But those in the area knew him as a familiar face, a couple elderly women having often given him a snack as he marched into the graveyard. One even gave him a Christmas gift one year because he took such great care of her husband's grave.
He let out a breath of air as he leaned against the shovel, swallowing hard. He was about to speak to the graves when a voice startled him.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
They say the good die young, but they never really tell you that they never die alone.
We all fall down. Bury a bit our souls six feet under ground.
If you die, then we die with you.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Isaac wanted to sigh as he walked across the cemetery, dragging his shovel with him. It was rather quiet out, with the exception of some crickets. It was a rather peaceful night. He was rather tired, but he had a job to do. Even though his father had passed away, Isaac still tended to the cemetery. Someone had to.
It wasn't fair to those who had loved ones in this place. Isaac didn't have the heart to see it fall apart or fall into a state of being unloved. He had spent so much time with the dead here, they knew his secrets. This had always been a home away from home and he wanted to continue to repay this place for taking him in.
He straightened a couple of knocked over candles, relighting them. A couple other graves, he tugged weeds out. Music played through his headphones that rested around his neck. He was never able to actually put them in his ears, as they blocked out his ability to listen for any sign of danger. The familiar song playing through the ear-buds allowing him to get lost in his work of tending to the graves.
He had a grave that he had to finish digging, the backhoe waiting for him. But he still had plenty of time to dig it. It was only a little before midnight. With the backhoe, he could finish it by by one, two at the latest. So Isaac took his time, making sure that all the existing graves were taken care of.
But he paused, flashlight shining on three familiar gravestones. He just stared at them, unsure if he should even say a word to the dead who resided under the earth stood on. To anyone who didn't know him, he probably looked like someone looking to vandalize the place. Why else did people hang in the graveyard? But those in the area knew him as a familiar face, a couple elderly women having often given him a snack as he marched into the graveyard. One even gave him a Christmas gift one year because he took such great care of her husband's grave.
He let out a breath of air as he leaned against the shovel, swallowing hard. He was about to speak to the graves when a voice startled him.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
NOTES: Open!
MUSIC: "WAR: Pt II" - Former Vandal
