Seasons and Senses Challenge
Title: Sounds of Life Exploding
Author: joelie
Rating: PG13 to R
Prompt: Gen 14. Draco Malfoy; Hearing; Spring; Solitary, Lake, Loneliness.
Word Count: 514
Summary: Draco listens to the life of spring whilst he hears his own death approaching.
The whistling wind blew through the trees, a slow whine that Draco heard with perfect clarity. It was all that was left to him, all his body was capable of. A broken body to match his broken soul, two pieces fitting together to make one.
Other sounds came. A far off buzzing off bees, zipping through the flowers that dotted the countryside. Living. Something Draco could no longer do but, surprisingly, didn’t envy them.
His body was numb after lying so long in the grassy field. Sight and touch were no longer within his capabilities. Yet he could hear; the glorious sounds of lapping water. The lake. He had fallen by the lake.
The lake held his memories, so many memories, so dear to him. He had grown up here. Little was it doing now to help him grow; a dying corpse, held together only by his magic and the sounds of life that reached his ears.
Baby birds chirped for their mother. Draco could hear their hunger in their cries. He no longer felt hunger. He no longer existed.
The sounds of trees, nature which grew with each passing day. The birth of life sounded like a bomb, everything exploding into spring. Everything except his own heart, slowly surrendering to the chill of winter. He could hear his breath dragging, sharply in contrast to the surrounding life.
He wondered why he could still hear. A torment perhaps? His punishment; the ability to hear the coming of spring, all the while knowing not a single person would be left here. In this place nature ruled, and his wizardry took a side seat.
No sounds of magic, no sounds of people. These could not reach his ears. Instead, the waves, the trees, rabbits, wind. These things; this is what he should have been fighting for. Not eternal silence. Death does not have a voice; decay does not give off noise. Loneliness only reinforces the fact that you cannot hear another living soul.
Nightfall. The sounds of the scurrying, yet still no one comes to help. Alone and dying in a world exploding with life-sounds, Draco heard himself cry.
Even in dreams he was alone. The sounds of silence grew louder. He had never known such pain. The throbbing of his eardrums woke him from his slumber. Another day was coming, and the nature that surrounded him was waking.
Spring was still in infancy, its cries of life a mere month old. He hoped he would die before it ended. In his thoughts it sounded like poetry; to die while life bloomed around him was part of the great cycle.
The crash of thunder alerted him to the fact that it was about to storm. Rain played over his crumpled body like it was a musical instrument. The crackling of lightning was the sound of true power to him. This storm was full of the essence of magic; he could hear the sounds behind the sounds.
The sound of it approaching.
The sound of it focusing its wrath on him.
The sound of his death approaching.
Author: joelie
Rating: PG13 to R
Prompt: Gen 14. Draco Malfoy; Hearing; Spring; Solitary, Lake, Loneliness.
Word Count: 514
Summary: Draco listens to the life of spring whilst he hears his own death approaching.
The whistling wind blew through the trees, a slow whine that Draco heard with perfect clarity. It was all that was left to him, all his body was capable of. A broken body to match his broken soul, two pieces fitting together to make one.
Other sounds came. A far off buzzing off bees, zipping through the flowers that dotted the countryside. Living. Something Draco could no longer do but, surprisingly, didn’t envy them.
His body was numb after lying so long in the grassy field. Sight and touch were no longer within his capabilities. Yet he could hear; the glorious sounds of lapping water. The lake. He had fallen by the lake.
The lake held his memories, so many memories, so dear to him. He had grown up here. Little was it doing now to help him grow; a dying corpse, held together only by his magic and the sounds of life that reached his ears.
Baby birds chirped for their mother. Draco could hear their hunger in their cries. He no longer felt hunger. He no longer existed.
The sounds of trees, nature which grew with each passing day. The birth of life sounded like a bomb, everything exploding into spring. Everything except his own heart, slowly surrendering to the chill of winter. He could hear his breath dragging, sharply in contrast to the surrounding life.
He wondered why he could still hear. A torment perhaps? His punishment; the ability to hear the coming of spring, all the while knowing not a single person would be left here. In this place nature ruled, and his wizardry took a side seat.
No sounds of magic, no sounds of people. These could not reach his ears. Instead, the waves, the trees, rabbits, wind. These things; this is what he should have been fighting for. Not eternal silence. Death does not have a voice; decay does not give off noise. Loneliness only reinforces the fact that you cannot hear another living soul.
Nightfall. The sounds of the scurrying, yet still no one comes to help. Alone and dying in a world exploding with life-sounds, Draco heard himself cry.
Even in dreams he was alone. The sounds of silence grew louder. He had never known such pain. The throbbing of his eardrums woke him from his slumber. Another day was coming, and the nature that surrounded him was waking.
Spring was still in infancy, its cries of life a mere month old. He hoped he would die before it ended. In his thoughts it sounded like poetry; to die while life bloomed around him was part of the great cycle.
The crash of thunder alerted him to the fact that it was about to storm. Rain played over his crumpled body like it was a musical instrument. The crackling of lightning was the sound of true power to him. This storm was full of the essence of magic; he could hear the sounds behind the sounds.
The sound of it approaching.
The sound of it focusing its wrath on him.
The sound of his death approaching.