AND THE CHURCH BELLS WOULD RING hour on the hour they would ring. That ringing in their ears was hypnotic to them, like a heartbeat never felt again. In the womb but never against a mother’s chest. Church bells they’ve heard but delusions they were. No bells rang. Not anymore. Abandoned and collapsing structures of a crumbling past. The creature sat in the rotting pews and the pungent scent of mold and mildew fills the room. Subtle creaking from behind, an ‘angel’ sat up a bit straighter in attention. Lashes fluttered soundly as they quickly scattered down to the ground, slipping across the dirty decrepit floor of the long since bustling church.
❝ EXPLORING? ❞
bambi is a small boy for his age, roughly four inches below the average— but where he lacks in size, he gains in that good ole’ dixon piss & vinegar, an attitude he most certainly { didn’t } inherit from his needy mother, but from a man that may as well at this point be a sperm doner. dead as well. but ain’t nobody in mourning for that old fucker. definitely not his youngest.
BUT THAT’S NOT WHY HE’S RUNNING AWAY !!!! AND RUNNING AWAY HE IS. FROM HIS MOTHER.
running away seemed rational, it seemed smart, it seemed like the only viable option that he had anymore. so when he ran, he ran till his lungs { burnt } because he didn’t have change for a bus ticket. instead, all he had was the backpack on his shoulder, and the ratty sneakers on his feet. the destination in mind? being some abandoned church on the corner of jefferson that junkies shoot up in.
only when he gets there, he is proven not to be alone— and the boy ... well, he doesn’t see { whom } the disembodied voice belongs to. but he knows it belongs to someone. a girl? a boy? he can’t tell. but he can tell by the sound they’re no adult that’s for sure. if anything they sound rather youthful. something bambi had lost too young. ❛ lookin’ for a place to crash, you ain’t gonna mind are you? ❜
titsay
turnnoffyourmind
2087
yousharknotpass
snowghoul
