Vow of Life

Wink

¡Juego de las Pulgas!
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August 203?

Oh Claire, there are old sayings that the dead live on through thoughts and tales of the living. I will not let you die a second time. Claire, I will endeavor this madness for you.

I used to be sane. Oh deary, when those bastards stripped you away from me, your fiancée's sanity went along . But a bound man could not fight, no matter how much he begged. If I known they were going to shoot to kilI, I would of given up the goddamned loaf of bread.

Why did they not kill me Claire? Why did they want to let a man deteriorate from loss bound to his own couch? Why did they leave your fresh corpse in the sitting chair, allowing it to watch ME rot. It's a miracle that i found the strength to gnaw off the fibers that kept me oppressed. Its a miracle that I manage to bury you in that makeshift grave, which now as surely been ruined by the acid rain.

Claire, it killed me to leave home. To leave our hopes, dreams, aspirations, and you. I often think about just laying down in the mud and letting the acid rain oblierate me into nothing. To leave this forsaken world, left by god a century ago. To stop looting houses for meager rations, disrupting corpses out of pure survival needs. Has it been a day since you left? Maybe a year? Everything is muddled now.

But Claire, I live for you.
-Court
 

Wink

¡Juego de las Pulgas!
Joined
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Messages
548
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Yet another sunset that taunts me so.

Up and down these enormous buildings, and for what? Maybe a scrap of reclaimed metal, and remains of a dinner years ago? All 47 floors searched carefully for this near meaningless payoff. Oh, how I wish I were you Claire.

As I gnaw on these spoiled carrots, the setting sun laughs. It laughs at my misery, my poverty, my insides slowly decaying from it's severely harmful rays. These cheap leather pads can't protect me from these cancer-causing rays of radiation. Only the foolish travel during the day, rotting into mutants with each ray absorbed. This environment has turned me nocturnal.

Well, not only me, let's be honest Claire. I do see the occasional group of nomads, seeking resources the moment the sunsets. It seems these groups all have a common greeting; 'Show your Colors'. Claire, you and I both know I don't side with any group. Sometimes they drop it and become into a sociable mood, or some hold a sword to my neck, threatening to take my life unless I produce the meaningless piece of cloth. This environment is friendly to no man, it appears.

The moon slowly makes it's presence. And with that, I must descend this building Claire,
-Court
 
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