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21 Days, 21 Dribble Drabble
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Day 6 ---Arthur King and The Knights of the Roundtable
A Kiss before Dying
Light. His life had seemed so steep in darkness lately that he had begun to believe that it was all that was left for him. He tried to hold on to it; tried to hold on to the images of his mother smiling at him as they ran through their lush backyard. She was so loving, so warm, and so proud of her Little King.
King. His legacy. His life.
He never asked to be born a King. It was a legacy full of pain as well as promise. When his father died he promised himself that he would keep the King Family legacy alive. That he would be a man that his parents would be proud of. He knew now that they had always known the truth about him, that they carried the terrible secret of who he really was and that they were raising him for a purpose that even now he did not understand.
Red. The color of love. Even now she was by his side, giving him strength and comfort when he needed it most.
He wanted to cry, but he was Arthur King, and Kings didn’t cry. Kings fought and more than anything he wanted to hold on to all the things that had come to matter to him in the past few weeks, but he felt them slipping away from him. The pain was slowly making its way from his chest throughout his entire body and he had to bite down on his lip to keep from screaming out. He thought about the last time he was in the forest, the laughter and the hope, that surrounded him. It made him feel like his life was somehow just beginning, now lying beneath these large redwood trees he feared his life was at its end. He looked down at his side. Blood was gushing through his white T-shirt. He put his hand on his side.
Yeah, he laughed. That’ll help.
He tried to get up, but his legs wouldn’t move, but his ears seemed to be working alright.
Somebody was calling his name, shrieking it actually, her fear was making it hard for him to contain his own. He tried to reach for her, tried to tell her not that it was all right, that he was all right. She above all others had to know that it was always going to end like this. This was his destiny and he gladly accepted it if it meant his friends would live, that she would live.
He looked at her and tried to smile. Her beautiful face was shrieked with tears. “You’re not going to die Arthur,” she said, putting her hand on his face.
But he knew he was.
His blue eyes met her large green ones as he smiled through the pain.
“See you in the next life,” he said.
Then it all went black
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