Taking a small leather bound book from his pocket he smiled. He just looked at it for a moment, tracing his fingers along it's binding. He felt the cold leather which held the pages in place, slowly wrapping a finger around the end of the hard bound cover he pulled it open. The first few pages opened with it, and contained hand written words. Stories of love and loss, poems of soul through which one could see into Tariu's mind. Stains from tears, smudges of blood both of his and of others. Some pages were torn, and others missing out right.. This book was the physical manifestation of Tariu's past. Like a scar born in paper.
He sighed, as he brought down his finger to flip through the pages, coming to the first blank one. Though the pages remaining were becoming very numbered. Bringing a pen from his pocket, he perched the tip against his lips as his eyes drifted away in thought.
He meditated for a few more seconds on the situation before bringing the pen down and putting it to paper. He moved his hand slowly, ink coming from the tip staining the paper in it's wake as it wrote letters. Letters became words, and words became whole thoughts.
His eyes became dull, and involved as he continued to write. A lock of hair escaped it's perch behind his ear and fell in front of his face, but he'd just leave it. His bottom lip retreated under a tooth as he continued to put words on paper, and he turned the page.
This was the last one.
He paused once more as he stared at the blank page before him. All the possibilities, as it stood the page said nothing. He could make it say anything, this truly was as playing god. Contained within these pages was his world, maybe it was just a re-accounting of the world around him, but this was his version. This one contained his thoughts, his reactions and goals. It was the world around him sure, but in here you could see why Tariu saw the world the way he did.
He looked around the room, at the newer girl, Anise, Wrath.. He looked at the black paint flaking off of Prides throne.. He looked at the now rust colored bloodstains from when he'd put entrails on the walls. He looked at the couch beneath him, which was stained from his own blood, from his own death just a week before. He could see the scars of the castle, proof that time had passed, proof that things have existed here.
He then looked at the couch he was sitting on. Placing the pen on the book to free his hand, he brought it to the surface of the couch and pushed against it. Plush, soft, smooth, warm.. These were the qualities he could make out, these were the things he could feel now. This was the present, fleeting though it were. He wanted to bind himself, he knew he would have to leave it soon, and these sensations which he was currently partaking in would be just a memory.
He licked his lips once before the bottom one quickly retreated back under a tooth, biting hard. He closed his eyes and focused on the feeling for a few more moments. Quiet he listened to the sounds around him, he focused on the company of the others, things he simply would not hear anymore. Feelings, that he would not feel anymore. He would stay like this for several moments.
Opening his eyes again he picked the pen back up, a few tears managing to take form at the brink of his eyes. His hand began to tremble as he tried to scratch out a few final thoughts on the paper. A few times he simply stopped and put the pen back down, bringing up that arm to wipe away the tears which represented his weakness. Letting his regrets slowly become the moisture in his sleeve.
He brought his arm down away from his face, his flesh now clearly flushed red. What of the tears that weren't absorbed were now smeared against his cheeks, leaving them to glisten, reflecting his apprehension. He picked the pen up again, and carefully brought the tip to the page, making sure the words left behind would be legible.
He stared at the page, reading the words over and over. Analyzing them, judging them, criticizing them. These were the words by which he would leave behind a piece of him, he wanted them to be perfect. His lip finally escaping his bite, creeped into a smile. Putting the pen back in his pocket he stood and placed the book on the couch behind him, leaving it open to the page he'd just written.
He stood there for a few seconds, looking again at the room before turning away. He tucked his hair back behind his ear, and fixed his jacket. As he began to walk to the door, he dragged his fingers against the wall. A small amount of dust trailed along behind his fingertips as he disturbed their rest. Opening the door, he stepped out without a word. The light from the room behind him spilled out into the darkness in front of him. The warmth, drifted into the cold. The commotion, faded into the nothingness. Standing outside, with the door still in his grip he hesitated for a second. Finally, he shut the door behind him, not speaking a word.
Upon the couch sat the journal, open still to the last page. It was sullen with tears, and the words upon it were barely legible.
"My friends I wish I had more that I could say to you than this. I wish that I could have prepared something for each of you which would truly make it to where I could come to terms with this separation. I don't think, anything could truly prepare me for what I'm feeling now. I thought for sure, I wouldn't hesitate to leave but here I am now wishing I'd more time.
My time spent here will not be forgotten, and a piece of each of you will live on in my heart for whatever time I may have left.
I guess, I just wanted to say thanks.. But in the end I really couldn't could I? I guess I just never knew the right thing to say, or to do. It was never really enough to simply be here.
The part with me is over now, so I have to leave. . .
Goodbye..
My time spent here will not be forgotten, and a piece of each of you will live on in my heart for whatever time I may have left.
I guess, I just wanted to say thanks.. But in the end I really couldn't could I? I guess I just never knew the right thing to say, or to do. It was never really enough to simply be here.
The part with me is over now, so I have to leave. . .
Goodbye..
Signed, Tariu."
(Sorry about the formatting, journal is a**))
