THREE CHILDREN
Three children are sitting on a log near a stream.
A young girl in a simple black dress sits on the far left of the log. She has both her feet in the water, and both her palms supporting her body on the log. Her long hair is dark as the midnight sky and covers the ground beneath her and her companions in many curls and tangles, but she hardly notices.
She stares straight at the reflection of the sky in the calm stream flowing around her feet. Her dark colors contrast her porcelain skin, and the bright surrounding landscape lit by the rays of the sun, in all its glory of greens, browns and blues.
Beside her, sitting at the center of the log, a small boy of dark skin and red, fiery hair fiddles with a dry stick, seemingly curious but bringing about an air of helplessness and despair, as though unable to control something.
He wears a large, white shirt that covers until his knees and he has his legs bent, feet completely planted on the surface of the log, unwilling to touch the ground. His eyes glaze over and it is obvious he has something else on his mind.
To his right, another boy of dark skin and messy, orange hair sits. He is shorter in height than the other two children, and he lets his legs dangle above the water, cheerful and carefree. Although, he takes care not to bump his heels into the log as to not startle his two other companions.
His eyes sparkle when he takes in the landscape around him--the bright sun in the sky; lush, green hills spanning the entirety of the horizon; flat plains of emerald grass that wave as the wind blows; in front of him, a calm stream of crystal clear water trickling past them and behind him, the woods beckoning for his return.
The world is silent despite the life that is obviously growing around him. Only the sound of water and wind can be heard in his ears.And he wonders. He wonders for a moment if there can ever be other creatures like him, and his companions.
He turns his emerald eyes to the sky, as if looking for ideas or answers. Then, seeing an odd-shaped cloud, his hand reaches out, and he breaks the silence.
“I give,” a young voice speaks, his words clear as the water in the stream, “my essence, bring forth--”
The young girl, upon hearing his voice, sighs. Ethereally, gracefully, she stands up and slinks into the stream, disappearing into the water.
She is eternal.
The boy in the middle, his eyes, fiery as the color of his hair, snap to the little, orange-haired boy. His gaze burns with unspoken fury, and something akin to hatred. A dark, violent storm brews around him. From that, a shadow door opens, and he steps through it, leaving behind only a circle of yellowed, withered grass.
He, too, is eternal.
The orange-haired boy is left alone by his companions, but he knows to fear nothing.
A white, furry creature forms from the cloud and drops into his arms.
The rabbit, although newborn, bounds out of his embrace, vanishing into the forest.
The boy watches it go. It is many moments after that his eyes cloud over and his gaze drops to his still hands on his lap. He knows Time does not care, for she is apathetic, but not Death.
And he worries.
Death…
Somehow, he has begun to hate his own existence.
