Man from the moon (UNDER EDITING)

Earthbound002/Death Of My Child

Y/N mindlessly waddled up the hill. With a lumbering bend in his spine, he lurched forward.

Up the rippled hills, that gravestone sat. A bleached jacket sitting on the edge. Y/N's eyes met with what was carved on the stone.

"Resting place of Maxine Saint."

Y/N's legs sagged and folded like paper mache in water. He bent over, a gurgling nastiness bubbling to the back of his throat.

He touched the gravestone. Gently as if it was porcelain.

"Wha—" He felt like an elephant had pressed its foot down on his chest. He dug his fingers into the grave.

"No… No. No!" He wailed.

Y/N stepped back. Slick tears and snot began to pour down his face; it was not a pretty cry, it was a broken wail.

He fell, grass slapping him in the face, and he wailed, with such pain that it would make the hearts of others shudder.

Y/N wailed, an indescribable pain filling his insides. Carving out everything he loved for and filling it with anger and ice.

His cries were like that of a dying animal in a forest. He screeched, digging his fingers through the grass.

Words had been choked out of him as if thick hands wrapped around his throat.

His head rested against the gravestone as if it was her forehead. Trying to feel her warmth through its frigid coarseness.

It ripped a gorge in him - the grief - perched on his shoulder like a vulture, to follow him forever; Eyes held so low that light could not hope to reach his fallen figure.

For hours he cried. Until his eyes were bursting with red, and the skin beneath them raw; even then, he wallowed listlessly. Like a baby sitting next to its dead mother, he held the jacket in his hands.

Wrapped in the faintly sun-bleached jacket, he held his hands together. Y/N tried to remember her smile, but that too, was eaten and ripped apart by the grief.

Thus, he sat, letting the moon spin above him. Then the sun.

When Y/N stood, his moves were like a zombie, sluggish like his will had been dragged from the bottom of a frozen puddle.

When he did move. The grass beneath him was lighter than the rest.

With an emptied mind he touched the gravestone once more.

"I love you."

With hollow eyes. His rocky face gazed at the moon. Then the forest; He took the jacket, not caring for who put it there. Selfish, he left.

A child weeps in the forest.
Arms behind his back.
He wailed.
Grief and regret ate him alive.

"How terrible."

A man sat on a log. He wore a short-sleeved shirt that hugged his biceps and tight shorts that sat above his knees.

A thin blanket wrapped around him. A bird chirped their wonderful song, and hanging at his ankles, lilies and aster flowers puffed their petals and rubbed against his bare feet.

Spurs of canopy leaves spun through the wind. His head hung like it was held by a rope, limply watching ants crawl through the grass.

Y/N picked an ant up. He watched it frantically crawl around - desperately searching for its home - he brought his other hand down on it. Murdering it in an instant.