Those we leave behind

A short idea of what happened afterwards. I'm going to make it better, I swear. I'm going to rewrite the whole thing, and make it all good. Because after The Beginning, it all went pear-shaped, and didn't work out AT ALL like I planned.

In some cultures, there is an idea of people being bound together by a ‘string of fate’.  Sometimes this string is depicted red, or silver, and sometimes it is some other colour.  I’ve never really seen any consistency in the theory myself, and dismissed it, but one thing is certain; this string of fate had tightened like a noose around the throat of two brothers.  Or perhaps it was that highly inappropriate naming convention.  Either way, one life had been taken, and another had ground to a messy halt in the process.

 

Tears flowed down River’s face as he hauled his brother’s corpse out of the Lake.

     “Cadaver...”  He grumbled, angry, though at whom he had no idea, “I can’t believe you.  Honestly, of all the times to f*****g die...  I’ll kill you.”

     “You can’t kill a corpse, River.”  The words formed in River’s mind, though he was sure he heard them spoken as though Cadaver himself had said them.  River could just picture the man, laughing fondly.  This was the point where he’d ruffle River’s hair, or punch him softly on the arm, and they’d walk into the village, bickering, and buy something strong to drink, and by the end of the evening they’d be the best of friends again.

     Never again.  He laid Cadaver’s body down.  He looked almost peaceful.  Almost, but not quite.  Fresh tears began to follow their forerunners’ tracks along River’s cheeks, and he choked back bile.  He’d never see his brother’s eyes twinkle, as he told a ridiculously bad joke.  He’d never get rat-arsed with him down in the village.  He’d never argue with him again.  And he’d never get the chance to apologise.

     He leaned, and kissed Cadaver’s cold forehead.  The final farewell.

 

***

 

She couldn’t believe it.  There was no possible way in Hell that this was true.  They were being stupid.

     He may be many things, she thought, but he’s not a murderer.  She voiced this opinion.

     “Cloud, dear, he was found beside the body.”  Her mother told her, for all the world as though to say this-is-absolute-proof-of-guilt-and-anybody-with-two-halves-of-a-brain-cell-to-rub-together-ought-to-be-able-to-see-so.  Village people were so dense, sometimes, it was untrue.

     “Oh, so now a person can’t pull their brother’s corpse out of a lake without being a murderer?”  Cloud responded, bitterly,  “Because if so, I swear to God you people are pathetic.”  She stood, then, and walked quickly from the house before she said something she’d regret, slamming the door hard behind her.

     She found River by the Lake, as usual.  Cadaver’s body had been removed a few hours prior, and River now lay on his back, staring at the stars as they made their nightly debut.  The sun would be fully set in thirty minutes or so.

     “River?”  Her voice was quiet, timid; she didn’t want to crowd him right now, but at the same time, she knew he needed someone to believe him.  He looked at her, his eyes entirely devoid of emotion.

     “What?  Come to tell me how evil I am?”  His voice was cold.  Like he didn’t care at all.

     “No.”  She replied softly, sitting down beside him.  “I don’t believe you’d have done what they say you did.”  He stared at her, incredulous.

     “Why?”

     “He was your brother.”  The answer, innocent enough in nature and intent, shook River to the core.  He began to cry anew.

     “So why can’t they understand that?”  He choked.  Cloud shook her head, and told him she didn’t know.  She asked if it was odd that she hadn’t cried yet, considering how close she had been to Cadaver, despite not actually being in love with him romantically.  River told her it wasn’t.  She asked if it was odd that she didn’t quite believe Cadaver had died, that she expected him to come and tell them it had all been some stupid prank at any moment.  River told her he would have expected it too, if he hadn’t seen his brother’s lifeless body laid out on the grass before him, and felt the deathly chill of its skin against his own.  She asked if River believed in an afterlife, and whether he thought Cadaver had managed to get there safely.  River said he didn’t.  She didn’t know whether that meant he didn’t think Cadaver was there, of if he just didn’t believe.  She didn’t think it would be tactful to press him for further information, so she dropped it.  They sat in silence until the moon rose.

    

Fate has a funny way of doing whatever it likes, whenever it likes, despite our carefully made plans.  Destiny likes to play God with our lives, and watch us squirm when we realise how thoroughly screwed we are.

     The reader may be interested to know that River’s parents vanished soon after ‘the incident’, as they referred to it, too ashamed that one of their sons had killed the other.  River was never surprised that they didn’t believe him, and didn’t resent the fact at all.  Nobody knows what happened to them.

     It is amazing the things people will believe, even without evidence, for the sake of ease.  Even that one might kill a sibling over something so incredibly petty.

     I suppose such is the way of the worlds.

Author's Note

I don't like it.

It didn't go in the direction I wanted it to.

I'm going to rewrite when my intelligence and skill come back from Alaska, because then it might be good.
D:
Cadaver will kill me. Because I just messed up his life story.
D':

Reviews

[Star Catcher]

I love it. You wrapped it all up so nicely, yet managed to leave it hanging in an odd way. I can't wait for the rest of As the River Flows. Amazing story.

[Callum Dalloway]

Shhh. At once. It's great.