on a darkling plain.

i am the child of the wasteland....a land of haunted houses and monsters i call father. dark talents run in the family, but i shatter the glass to let the moonlight in, not to destroy something fragile for the feeling of breaking beneath my fists. all i can do is scream, crawl out, and keep screaming. but i can hold the sparrow, mend its wing... i am the spring rain and the hurricane... the monsters cower now, not me, not you. *xn*

(first you must believe to be this: you lived in a semi-suburban/country area, you are alone (foto by me)) it is the aftermath of war. the countryside and former streets of houses are a wasteland. you live by eating bombed out shop's food remnants but these are disappearing. at night you hear rustlings and distant screams, and during the day it is empty and fires are still burning. you keep moving on and for days see nothing until one night there is a distant glow. you have never been this far from home before and then you remember there is no home anymore. during the day you see nothing but wasteland, but at night the glow comes back. it is steady unlike the blazes that still burn. you realize its in a hollow and make for it, and one moonlit night you stumble down a slight hill to trees lining a drive and see this.

you stay hidden behind the trees as you slowly approach. the small drive is covered with pebbles and not one is out of place. it seems all the lights are on behind slatted shutters, the trees seem to still grow and live, the lawn is cut and clean, but it is silent. even on the steppes above there was wind and crackling of fires and creaking of dead trees but here nothing. you begin to smell something, it might be bread. where is the power coming from, you wonder, for all the lights to be on like that in every room? it makes it glow in the night like it wants to attract people.. maybe a moth to the flame? but then why are the shutters closed? the trees you hide behind seem damp, the cut grass damp too- where does the water come from? the rains turn everything black and sooty so why is this place so clean? the bread baking smell wafts over to you again. you haven't eaten in days. what are you going to do?

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