#*leslie

[helplesshalo]

Día de los Muertos 🏵️

i thought setting up an ofrenda for an 11 month old would be chill gameplay but now she's reaching for her mom and i wanna cry bruh

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[rcinbcws]

— a colossal disaster. // @superheroxlanding​  ⚒️ 

Four or five moments, that’s all it takes.

In the first moment, gentle and steady hands push against the small of another mans back. A sea of eyes watch Leslie as he takes his time with his student, working him into the right position for camels pose. It wasn’t anything too crazy, an intermediate yoga position that he’d taught at least a million and one times. While most students had gotten the hang of it pretty easily, one of the newer faces in the crowd was having a little bit of trouble. This wasn’t uncommon, especially when you taught a class for both able-bodied people and people with disabilities. After twenty-seven years of teaching, being able to help all people, regardless of ailments still filled his heart with gratitude and pride. 

“In a moment, I’m going to gently push your back into more of an arch. Before that, I’d like you all to close your eyes for a moment. As you do, I want you to focus in on your body and your senses.What do you feel? What do you hear? Maybe it’s your heartbeat, maybe it’s your own breathing...As you focus, I’d like for you all to take three deep breaths. As you inhale through the nose, think about all of the things you’ve pent up, all of the negative feelings, the aches, the stress...and as you exhale through your mouth, I want you to picture it all blowing away.” 

In the second moment, he takes a moment breathe in unison with the crowd of students around him. The collective sound of the others soothes Leslie as he breathes in the good and exhales the bad. After a minute of the exercise, he turns back to his student and gives him a warm, encouraging smile. “Alright, now that you’ve relaxed a little, I’m going to press here...I want you to let me know if you experience any discomfort, okay?” At the confirming nod of the other man, Leslie allows his eyes to fall shut once more before pushing into the other mans back with what should have been a gentle, careful touch.

It happens in a snap. 

In the third moment, was was once a quiet, peaceful atmosphere was now being pierced by a loud crack and the shrill sounds of screaming. As students kick away at their mats in an attempt to get away from him, shock fills his body. His eyes shoot open in a panic, but the bright sun rays cast white over his vision and leave him blind to his surroundings. The faint smell of metal fills his senses as a heavy, dead weight drops into his hands and he feels the earth sway beneath him. Deep in the lowest depths of his stomach, he can feel nausea bubble up from fear of what he’d done.

He tries to place the weight down onto the ground gently, but every movement is all too harsh and all too fast. The sound of a body hitting the ground with a loud thump fills his ears and a sense of dread washes over him. 

“No, no, no no no..” 

His legs then give out from the weight of his own body, dropping him down into the grass, fingers digging into the dirt. The nausea in his stomach only worsens, a tightness forms in his jaw and before he can even think to breathe through the panic, he’s hurling through sobs onto the ground below him. 

The fourth moment, he blinks. Over and over until the cloud of fog abandons his vision and he can see the blurry image of his surroundings. Surrounding him are abandoned mats and water bottles, nearing all of his students had run away or stood at a distance, watching him with fear in their eyes. Mothers covered their children's eyes, shuffling them further and further away from the monster that had just killed a man...during yoga in the fucking park. He wants to open his mouth, to say something, to cry out that it was an accident, that he didn’t know what was going on...but the loud, angry voices of the people surrounding him drown out any attempts he would have made. 

“He killed him!” they shriek, 

                                                                                          “Somebody call the police” they cry,           

                                            “You’re a monster!”

Every angry word spit in his direction stings worse than the last. Even as he tries to stand up, tries to reach out to the people around him, they only step back and scream at him to get away. People rush away, dialing emergency numbers on their phones and calling out for help, for someone to come take him away, to kill the disgusting mutant just like he’d killed the innocent man.

 “Please stop running! I’m not going to hurt you! I-I’ve never wanted to hurt anybody! I promise this wasn’t me, I would never do this! Please don’t run, you have to believe me-”