Feb. 1st, 2009

plantfood: (grief)
The marker doesn't take long, made of stone and wood, the name Henrich Schreiber etched carefully into the wooden cross Mathias has fashioned. There are no dates, no death date, no birth date, he doesn't want to remember those things. More than that, he doesn't want to think about how he doesn't really know when his brother died. It could have been the day he left Mathias behind at the resort or it could have been the same day his small group had arrived at the ruins. He doesn't know how close he came to being able to save Henrich, so he refuses to think about it at all.

The marker doesn't take long at all; it's the casket that takes longer, though it's no more than some wooden planks nailed together.

The body is heavier than he expects. He makes two trips, bringing the marker to the cemetery first and then Henrich's body. Mathias has changed him, removed the arrows, found him fresh pants and a button down shirt, although he imagines Henrich wouldn't care. He thinks about returning the coin to Henrich, sliding the chain around his neck and lowering it into the ground with him, but in the end, he keeps it. It has no luck left, but Mathias wants it.

Carefully, he lays his brother inside the box, cushioning his head, refusing to think of how cold and stiff he is. There's no more blood, no more vines. Just his little brother, cold and dead in a wooden box.

It takes the better part of the day. The burns on Mathias's hands crack and bleed, leaking down his wrists, spattering onto the dirt as he digs. His blood stains the box, falls on the marker and Mathias continues to dig. His burns blister and the blisters break, but he continues to dig.

When the hole is deep enough, he seals the box. The hammer slips in the blood on his hands, but he seals his brother into the darkness, then manages to ease the box into the hole in the dirt. Covering him doesn't take as long and Mathias places the marker at the head of the grave, his bloody fingerprints still on the stone.

"Auf Wiedersehen, mein Bruder. Ich liebe dich," he murmurs, thinking he should say more, but the words won't come. If there's any person in this world who will understand Mathias and his inability to talk, he knows it is Henrich and so he says nothing more.

Every muscle in his body aches, a bone deep weariness that he knows will be with him for days. His hands scream with pain, but he collects the tools he's taken from the Compound and turns back toward the building. Tomorrow will come and the island will remain unchanged and Mathias will still have buried the one person he loves most in the world.

"Dein Bruder ist gestorben," he says, just to hear the words in his own voice. The vines echo him inside his head.

Profile

plantfood: (Default)
Mathias

November 2020

S M T W T F S
1234567
8 91011121314
15161718192021
22232425262728
2930     

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags