“Something hurts and I don’t know what it is.”
PROMPTS — SENTENCE STARTERS // ACCEPTING .
— A DARK, GLOOMY CLOUD hung menacingly in the sky above the old house, offering knowledge of a soon-to-be storm. The air; humid & with a certain pressure. PRESSURE from the oncoming downpour, or pressure from the room he found himself in. Tension, perhaps, filling the air & mood. A somberness, or rather something he couldn’t quite place even if he tried.He was sitting on the table, hands in lap & eyes peering out the open balcony doors at the edge of Arthur’s room. A wind blew in, cold even for the regions they found themselves in. The words Arthur had spoken were ringing in his ears & the hesitation to aim his gaze at the other was with reason. A h u r t in him. Something Dutch had noticed, yet CHOSEN to go without mention. Something in Arthur; wrong & off, seeming to have grown with his beginning lack of FAITH.
❝ We’ve almost reached our goal. ❞ He almost whispered, with a certain hesitation to his words. He was a gang LEADER. A father, a brother, a mentor to them. It was HIS job to ignite the s p a r k that would burn down their rooted doubts & fears. It was HIS job, to take care of them.
❝ Son, we’ll be out of this CHAOS soon enough. All we need is that one last score, and PARADISE awaits. The freedom is within our grasp, I can taste it. All I ask for, is some faith in me. ❞
Eyes were fixated on the other’s face. The fatigue in his eyes & voice, leaving Dutch with a feeling of discomfort. A hollow a c h e which he had not noticed before —or rather; avoided. An uneasiness, or a FEAR buried in his chest. The blue in Arthur’s eyes, reminding him of a different, simpler time, & as he sat there; for a second… Only a brief one; the face he saw was not of Arthur’s present self. No, it was of the boy whom he had sworn to protect. The young, unruly ARTHUR, now a man sitting across from the one who had kept him safe for twenty years.
❝—so you QUIT that worrying of yours. I’ll get us out. I will, & I trust you will be by my side; both in that damned city, & WHEN we wander off the boat to the shimmery shores of TAHITI. I need you to TRUST me now. Freedom is nigh. I know it. ❞
It seemed the threat of a storm was no longer only outside. It had g r o w n its way inside, and latched itself to the conversation, lacing each word —each syllable, with the promise of DREAD. The pressure no longer an inexplicable one. Even after attempting to extinguish the lingering melancholic tensity, it still seemed futile—& it was with the first flash of rain POURING from the sky that he r o s e from his seat & shot Arthur a look; the glint of worry in his eyes hidden well beneath layers of the confidence he exuded.
❝ We ride out after the storm has passed.❞Dutch van der Linde spoke, & looked at Arthur for the last time before turning to the rain soaked balcony. The look in his eye changing, & then the sound of thunder rumbling menacingly in the distance.
