User avatar 1518031360 Avery

2 mins.

Marbles

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Marbles

by User avatar 1518031360 Avery 2 mins.

Once, a boy snuck out of the house in the middle of the night to sit in his yard, encased by moonlight. The boy waited, and at exactly midnight, a figure emerged. Dressed in a cloak with a hood so no person could see the being inside, the figure stood in front of the boy. The boy smiled, and looked up at the figure, expectantly waiting, with his hand held out. Neither one spoke as the figure reached out from the sleeve of his cloak a white hand of bone, clutching four small objects. The figure dropped the objects into the boy's awaiting hand, and then walked away into the gloom. The boy waited until the figure was gone, then looked at the objects in his hand. They were marbles, white as the purest snow. The boy smiled, then went back inside to bed.

For the next four days, the child played. He ran around outside, chasing his friends, laughing and giggling, wiping his runny nose with the back of his sleeve the way that all little boys do in the fall. On the night of the fourth day, the boy snuck out to sit in his patch of moonlight and waited, occasionally wiping his nose. The figure emerged, and the boy smiled. The figure with the white hand of bone dropped three objects into the boy's awaiting fingers, then left, all without saying a word. As before, the boy waited until the figure had left to look at the objects in his hand. They were marbles again, a startling shade of silver. The boy smiled, then went back inside to bed.

For the next three days, afraid her son might have a small cold, the boy's mother kept him inside. But the boy was happy, playing board games with his brother and sister, watching the television, and sneezing into a hankie his father had given to him. On the night of the third day, the boy snuck out to sit in his patch of moonlight and waited, sneezing into his hankie and wiping his nose. The figure emerged, and the boy smiled. The figure with the white hand of bone dropped two objects into the boy's awaiting fingers, then left, all without saying a word. As he did the two times before, the boy waited until the figure had left to look at the objects in his hand. They were marbles this time too, a dull, dark, gray. The boy smiled, then went back inside to bed.

For the next two days, the boy stayed in his room, too sick to play with his brother and sister. But the boy was happy, reading books, playing with his toys, and coughing into the crook of his arm. On the night of the second day, the boy snuck out to sit in his patch of moonlight and waited, coughing, sneezing and wiping his nose. The figure emerged, and the boy smiled. The figure with the white hand of bone dropped one object into the boy's awaiting fingers, then left, all without saying a word. As with the days before, the boy waited until the figure had left to look at the object in his hand. As expected, it was a marble, this one black as pitch. The boy smiled, then went back inside to bed.

The next day, the boy stayed in bed, too sick to play. But the boy was happy; taking long naps, snuggling with is teddy bear, and sweating with fever. That night, too sick to sneak out, the boy lay in his bed. From an open window, the boy was encased by a shaft of moonlight, so he waited, sweating, coughing, sneezing, and wiping his nose. At exactly midnight, the figure emerged. The boy looked up at him, and smiled weakly. Struggling, the boy reached out his hand to accept is gift of marbles from the figure. Silently, the figure shook his head; there were no more marbles left to give. The boy dropped his hand, but still smiled weakly at the figure. The figure stooped, and with white hands of bone, gently picked up the frail, sickly boy. The figure left, carrying the boy away into the gloom, all without saying a word.

  • #death
  • #sad

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