Puppelora oneshots, stories and scenarios

The last story

Its dark and only dark. No sunlight, no lamps, no nothing. Its just black.

Cato turns to his sleeping wife. They are old now, 98 and 99 years old. What is left for them to see? Their children have families and children, and their grandchildren are adults now, what is left to do, other than wait and think. Think about situations you could have been different, think about situations were you could have been a better person, and think about what you missed out on. Now, you just had to wait.

The silence. The harsh and ever so loud silence. Cato could hear his wife breathing, the bed they slept on was moving around. It was lonely. The cars were outside, and they were nothing but loud. Cato sighed and tried to turn around to his wife. But his hips said "No". He missed when he could easily skip over next to her body and relax with her as she would calmly breathe on his chest. He missed the touch of her heartbeat on his, he missed the past and what he did. He missed when his children were small and only children. He missed when his grandchildren were small happy toddlers. He missed when he had the power to swing them around and kiss their little cheeks. He missed it all. It was boring. It was lonely. And he was tired.

He looked at his wife, and first now realised that the "breathing" he thought he heard was her last breath. She died so peacefully next to him. But now, he had nothing to loose. He had done everything, and his wife was gone too. The only thing left was himself. He scoots over to her. Even though it hurted and he started to bleed. He wanted to feel her body for the last time. The warmth and coziness. The memories, it all. When he finally reached, he couldn't help but cry. Why did death choose her first? And why not them both at the same time so that they wouldn't feel this pain? He kissed her forehead and snuggled her tightly as he went back to sleep.

And never woke up after that.