08-31-2018, 04:37 PM
31. endings
Endings. Dimitri had imagined his death before- several times. When he was young and finally had a concept of death, of endings, he had imagined the ways he’d die. Maybe his father would finally kill him, and his neck would have been ripped out, or he would have been choked to death. Maybe they would have bled out.
When they were on their own in the streets, he would imagine starving to death. He could see a figure coming at him, some group of cats they’d crossed or even a dog or two, coming and ripping them apart. Eating them while alive or dead, because food was food and meat was meat. A small kitten wasn’t much, but it was food.
Snowbound was the first time the thought of death hadn’t crossed him. Admittedly, he had visions of Snowbounders turning on him and ripping their claws in his sides, outcasting him- but those thoughts were gone now.
Dagon thought many times, of suicide. When they lived in the city and climbed to the top of a tall rooftop sitting on the ledge and staring at the ground. Thinking about it. Considering it. Wanting to die all over. Wondering how quick death would come and if he would finally be free from Dimitri and from what they’d experienced. Freedom, perhaps. Or would they have gone to hell?
Dagon was everything Dimitri didn’t want to be. An angry drunkard who couldn’t let go and didn’t have the fucking guts to do it.
Endings. Dimitri had imagined his death before- several times. When he was young and finally had a concept of death, of endings, he had imagined the ways he’d die. Maybe his father would finally kill him, and his neck would have been ripped out, or he would have been choked to death. Maybe they would have bled out.
When they were on their own in the streets, he would imagine starving to death. He could see a figure coming at him, some group of cats they’d crossed or even a dog or two, coming and ripping them apart. Eating them while alive or dead, because food was food and meat was meat. A small kitten wasn’t much, but it was food.
Snowbound was the first time the thought of death hadn’t crossed him. Admittedly, he had visions of Snowbounders turning on him and ripping their claws in his sides, outcasting him- but those thoughts were gone now.
Dagon thought many times, of suicide. When they lived in the city and climbed to the top of a tall rooftop sitting on the ledge and staring at the ground. Thinking about it. Considering it. Wanting to die all over. Wondering how quick death would come and if he would finally be free from Dimitri and from what they’d experienced. Freedom, perhaps. Or would they have gone to hell?
Dagon was everything Dimitri didn’t want to be. An angry drunkard who couldn’t let go and didn’t have the fucking guts to do it.