bubblegum_fairy
27-10-2007, 18:10
Okay I've wrote loads of things in my time away this is a recent one part I have wrote.. It has been said this is a bit of a tearjearker so you have been warned.. Hope you enjoy xxx
It was a cold crisp winter morning, frost lay on the ground. It almost seemed fairytale like, waiting for the snow princess to walk out in all glory, showing sophistication and beauty. She would have dark ebony hair, a pale complexion, wrapped up warm with a long red coat. Walking side by side with her devoted husband, with a large pram in front of them filled with warm white blankets keeping their little baby safe.
But that’s just an illusion.
There was no princess not anymore, and there was no baby.
The two most precious people a man could have in his life were gone. Stolen from the world in some cruel, sick twisted fantasy which deemed like a nightmare, when in fact it was reality.
They were dead, no more; nothing was going to bring them back.
And it was on this very cold and crisp winter morning, a man whom has lost everything was making his daily visit to the cemetery, new flowers in his hand and a small little toy both to lay by the graves. It had become a ritual, for this broken man nothing could make him feel more complete. This was becoming his normality.
Wrapped in his long black coat with his scarf wrapped around his neck, he made his way along the path, with the sharp sound of frost and ice breaking with every step he took, it was a piecing sound. Like the sound of a knife stabbing at every inch of flesh remaining on a dead animal. To someone like his one true love that sound would be an aching memory of times when life was getting tough. To others it wouldn’t mean a thing.
The cold air began to linger upon his face, his cheeks becoming a rosy pink as his blood was trying to pump around his system to keep him warm, this yet again was another symbolic feeling in his mind a memory when his daughter was tubed up to machines fighting for her life. At this thought he bowed his head, a single tear dropping from his eye.
He had realised he had reached the graves of the two people he loved the most. He looked upon the grave stones, both encrypted with gold writing, and stone of black marble.
Selena Marie Donovan
May 14th 1970 – August 4th 2007
A loving woman with a kind nature, her life
Taken away so suddenly, and unable to
Be a mother to her child.
May she rest in peace and be remember
By all.
The woman he would have been married to, had a life with lay under this ground, nothing but a lost soul, his eyes scanned to the next grave.
Angel Donovan-Spencer
August 4th 2007 – 15th September 2007
Worlds little Angel in words that cannot defy
Unable to know her mother, and barely
Knowing her father, nature took its course
And our precious child made her way to heaven
Looking up to the heavens above he let out a few more tears, tears that were bound to turn into ice at some point. Wheeling up with emotion he knelt down, placing the roses down on Selena’s grave. He arranged them neatly before running his hand down the picture that still remained of the pair.
‘Why did you have to leave... You managed to fight through everything... you battled MRSA... why not this... Our baby needed you... as selfish as it sounds I need you.... I love you..... Always have, always will... You’re my princess... I hope you’re happy wherever you are... and looking after Angel....’
Nathan, covered his face as he cried in pain before placing down the teddy on Angel’s grave
‘You made me proud... even if you were unable to live.... I was proud of you for fighting... your mum would be proud too.... I’m sure she is... and she’s looking after you now.... more than I ever could.... I think of times if you lived, you grow up like her beautiful... intelligent with a heart of gold... Be good for me....’
His voice quivered more, as he just sobbed rocking himself between the two graves; the daily habit was becoming more emotional by the day, by the minuet. This turmoil life was so much to bear, and he didn’t know how much more he could take.
Snow started to fall, on this early December morning, only the good would come along and tell this man to pull himself together and look to the future, but a man like Nathan wouldn’t take that on board, he was used to suffering, he believed he should suffer.
It was in this time, feeling the pain and grief he had felt for months that suddenly he wasn’t feeling cold anymore, he wasn’t alone. Someone up there was looking out for them, and it was obvious who.
He really had two angels up in heaven. Two angels, falling from the snow.
It was a cold crisp winter morning, frost lay on the ground. It almost seemed fairytale like, waiting for the snow princess to walk out in all glory, showing sophistication and beauty. She would have dark ebony hair, a pale complexion, wrapped up warm with a long red coat. Walking side by side with her devoted husband, with a large pram in front of them filled with warm white blankets keeping their little baby safe.
But that’s just an illusion.
There was no princess not anymore, and there was no baby.
The two most precious people a man could have in his life were gone. Stolen from the world in some cruel, sick twisted fantasy which deemed like a nightmare, when in fact it was reality.
They were dead, no more; nothing was going to bring them back.
And it was on this very cold and crisp winter morning, a man whom has lost everything was making his daily visit to the cemetery, new flowers in his hand and a small little toy both to lay by the graves. It had become a ritual, for this broken man nothing could make him feel more complete. This was becoming his normality.
Wrapped in his long black coat with his scarf wrapped around his neck, he made his way along the path, with the sharp sound of frost and ice breaking with every step he took, it was a piecing sound. Like the sound of a knife stabbing at every inch of flesh remaining on a dead animal. To someone like his one true love that sound would be an aching memory of times when life was getting tough. To others it wouldn’t mean a thing.
The cold air began to linger upon his face, his cheeks becoming a rosy pink as his blood was trying to pump around his system to keep him warm, this yet again was another symbolic feeling in his mind a memory when his daughter was tubed up to machines fighting for her life. At this thought he bowed his head, a single tear dropping from his eye.
He had realised he had reached the graves of the two people he loved the most. He looked upon the grave stones, both encrypted with gold writing, and stone of black marble.
Selena Marie Donovan
May 14th 1970 – August 4th 2007
A loving woman with a kind nature, her life
Taken away so suddenly, and unable to
Be a mother to her child.
May she rest in peace and be remember
By all.
The woman he would have been married to, had a life with lay under this ground, nothing but a lost soul, his eyes scanned to the next grave.
Angel Donovan-Spencer
August 4th 2007 – 15th September 2007
Worlds little Angel in words that cannot defy
Unable to know her mother, and barely
Knowing her father, nature took its course
And our precious child made her way to heaven
Looking up to the heavens above he let out a few more tears, tears that were bound to turn into ice at some point. Wheeling up with emotion he knelt down, placing the roses down on Selena’s grave. He arranged them neatly before running his hand down the picture that still remained of the pair.
‘Why did you have to leave... You managed to fight through everything... you battled MRSA... why not this... Our baby needed you... as selfish as it sounds I need you.... I love you..... Always have, always will... You’re my princess... I hope you’re happy wherever you are... and looking after Angel....’
Nathan, covered his face as he cried in pain before placing down the teddy on Angel’s grave
‘You made me proud... even if you were unable to live.... I was proud of you for fighting... your mum would be proud too.... I’m sure she is... and she’s looking after you now.... more than I ever could.... I think of times if you lived, you grow up like her beautiful... intelligent with a heart of gold... Be good for me....’
His voice quivered more, as he just sobbed rocking himself between the two graves; the daily habit was becoming more emotional by the day, by the minuet. This turmoil life was so much to bear, and he didn’t know how much more he could take.
Snow started to fall, on this early December morning, only the good would come along and tell this man to pull himself together and look to the future, but a man like Nathan wouldn’t take that on board, he was used to suffering, he believed he should suffer.
It was in this time, feeling the pain and grief he had felt for months that suddenly he wasn’t feeling cold anymore, he wasn’t alone. Someone up there was looking out for them, and it was obvious who.
He really had two angels up in heaven. Two angels, falling from the snow.