N
nosferatu
Guest
Blackthorn Breen
Epilogue
Hostility was in one mind, a thought of death, his parents, loved ones, and family. He can see the icy pale grip of death on his families shoulders, slowly he watches them drift away into a dark blackness. It is a black that you will never see in your life, it darkens your soul and makes you bleed inside. I hope that one day the curse of that memory will forever be gone. I wake up to the blinding sun on my eyes. I can hear the birds chirping and the sweet smell of wheat-grass. The forest shade looked tranquil while the sun glistens through the tree-tops and reminds me of home. The trees swayed in the sunlight that made the shadows move… It made me feel comfortable in a sort of way. I look down and saw the initials carved into my boot, in sort of a scripture type font. The initials were “G.R” which stood for my name… “Galad, Redman”. A name that has plagued my mind for so many years, named after my father… I can’t stand to think of him anymore, the way he was tortured, murdered. But I will bring you back to when I was a boy, the day it started was the day before my mothers birthday.
Chapter 1
A young boy 7 years in age, young Galad stood fishing in Oakvale. His feet nimble, ready to move. Galad stood about 4 feet tall, he had blue shorts with patches in them, one was ripping and discolored. His shirt was faded brown, which the original color was blue. Galad’s hair was long and moppy, it was messy and discolored a dirty blonde. You could tell his family was struggling financially. He couldn’t stay in one place for very long, he was constantly thinking of ways to entertain him self. Galad wore a bandanna most of the time mimicking an actor in a play that he use to watch. “Blackthorn Breen”. A story about a rogue bandit that stood for more then thievery and death. He used his cunning and creativity in new ways to help townsfolk’s, promoting the giving and the good. All of a sudden young Galad feels tugging on the string. He quickly got up and held the reel so tight that it made his hands numb. He was trying with all of his might to reel it in, but he couldn’t. As the string was being taken out he panicked and let go of the fishing pole. His heart melted and knew that he wouldn’t be able to get another fishing pole for awhile. His hands still blistered and red, he walked home. Galad was kicking rocks for amusement, on his way back to his house. On the way back he noticed the beautiful architecture of the houses, the landscaping, the tinted windows and the stained glass. He saw that everyone else was living well in Oakvale, but all of them were his friends. Galad felt embarrassed for his family and had a moment of realization that maybe life could be better then it is now. The blighted dirt seemed to grow as he walked, like a vile plague was being brought into town, a disease. When Galad got home he went straight into his room. The barren room of Galad, a chest, a closet, and a bed. What else could he ask for he thought, as he listed the things in his mind it seemed to sadden him even more… thinking of how much his family needed it. While Galad was drifting into sleep he arose 5 minutes later to the sound of his mother’s voice asking if he wanted dinner. Galad declined to his mothers request and thought about her old cook dress, in her dark brown hair, her blue eyes, and the pair of sole torn slippers. He repeated her name in his mind and started thinking of ways to improve his families life.
Epilogue
Hostility was in one mind, a thought of death, his parents, loved ones, and family. He can see the icy pale grip of death on his families shoulders, slowly he watches them drift away into a dark blackness. It is a black that you will never see in your life, it darkens your soul and makes you bleed inside. I hope that one day the curse of that memory will forever be gone. I wake up to the blinding sun on my eyes. I can hear the birds chirping and the sweet smell of wheat-grass. The forest shade looked tranquil while the sun glistens through the tree-tops and reminds me of home. The trees swayed in the sunlight that made the shadows move… It made me feel comfortable in a sort of way. I look down and saw the initials carved into my boot, in sort of a scripture type font. The initials were “G.R” which stood for my name… “Galad, Redman”. A name that has plagued my mind for so many years, named after my father… I can’t stand to think of him anymore, the way he was tortured, murdered. But I will bring you back to when I was a boy, the day it started was the day before my mothers birthday.
Chapter 1
A young boy 7 years in age, young Galad stood fishing in Oakvale. His feet nimble, ready to move. Galad stood about 4 feet tall, he had blue shorts with patches in them, one was ripping and discolored. His shirt was faded brown, which the original color was blue. Galad’s hair was long and moppy, it was messy and discolored a dirty blonde. You could tell his family was struggling financially. He couldn’t stay in one place for very long, he was constantly thinking of ways to entertain him self. Galad wore a bandanna most of the time mimicking an actor in a play that he use to watch. “Blackthorn Breen”. A story about a rogue bandit that stood for more then thievery and death. He used his cunning and creativity in new ways to help townsfolk’s, promoting the giving and the good. All of a sudden young Galad feels tugging on the string. He quickly got up and held the reel so tight that it made his hands numb. He was trying with all of his might to reel it in, but he couldn’t. As the string was being taken out he panicked and let go of the fishing pole. His heart melted and knew that he wouldn’t be able to get another fishing pole for awhile. His hands still blistered and red, he walked home. Galad was kicking rocks for amusement, on his way back to his house. On the way back he noticed the beautiful architecture of the houses, the landscaping, the tinted windows and the stained glass. He saw that everyone else was living well in Oakvale, but all of them were his friends. Galad felt embarrassed for his family and had a moment of realization that maybe life could be better then it is now. The blighted dirt seemed to grow as he walked, like a vile plague was being brought into town, a disease. When Galad got home he went straight into his room. The barren room of Galad, a chest, a closet, and a bed. What else could he ask for he thought, as he listed the things in his mind it seemed to sadden him even more… thinking of how much his family needed it. While Galad was drifting into sleep he arose 5 minutes later to the sound of his mother’s voice asking if he wanted dinner. Galad declined to his mothers request and thought about her old cook dress, in her dark brown hair, her blue eyes, and the pair of sole torn slippers. He repeated her name in his mind and started thinking of ways to improve his families life.
