Buried

Originally from 2022

Draft from my old book I scrapped to rewrite, liked this part a bit tho.

That night he died, cold and alone somewhere in the forest behind my childhood home. His bones soaked through and his hair damped by the snow that covered his small frame. We never found him, although no one ever truly went looking. Everyone knew what was awaiting us there if we did and they didn't dare confirm what they already knew, for as long as their eyes wouldn't see it it mustn't be true. And cowardly, so did I. I stood by the window watching the snow pile up as time passed, waiting for him to return back into my embrace. I'd scold him for being out so late, making everyone worried. We'd chat and drink some tea by the fireplace as it got colder and day turned to night quicker than ever. I'd hold him, promising to never let go again and selfishly wish for the same from him. But his blood was on our hands, and yet he never even bled.