MerchPen

    Ludwig slammed the door behind him, blocking out the sounds of Francis' pleas for forgiveness and no, I didn't mean it! and please, don't go! He blocked out everything for a moment and stood there, on the porch of Francis' fancy home in the country, letting the rain wash over him as he tried to forget what Francis had called him. The rain helped him cool down, the anger seeping out of him more and more with each drop of rain, but it couldn't take away the hurt.    Nazi bastard.    He had referred to him by that dreaded name he hadn't called him by in so long. Called him by a title he'd try so hard to push off. Tried so hard to fight aga

    Ludwig was woken up by the sunlight filtering through the shades and into his eyes, causing him to squeeze them shut and rolled over, only to find himself on top of a very much alive lump. He groaned and wrapped his arms around the lump's waist, clinging to the last shreds of sleep while the lump chuckled and carted his fingers through Ludwig's hair.    After awhile, he gave up, opening his eyes to face the day. He looked over at the alarm clock, almost having a heart attack when he saw the time, he was supposed to be at work a hour ago. He started scrambling out of bed, rushing to grab his clothes, when two gentle hands came to rest on

   I woke up, gasping for breath, with my mother's name on my lips in a whispered cry and confusion clouding every sense. I lay there for a few, short moments, trying to catch my breath and make sense of things as my chest heaved. I tried desperately to remember the nightmare that had ripped me from sleep, causing my foggy mind to fill with a dull sense of panic. I came up with nothing but a bitter taste in my mouth and a jolt of something, a feeling I couldn't find words to describe. My mouth and throat were dry, leaving every noise that escaped me raspy and alien. I needed a drink of water.    I felt sick, but it wasn't my stomach churning

as the sun falls behind the evergreens dim orange peeking all is gray and the fog lifts and once again i am acutely aware of my own loneliness

   The walk to Francis' house was quiet, much to Ludwig's relief. He was too caught up in looking around, at how different yet the same Paris was now, to carry on a conversation with the other. Ludwig figured Francis was used to the awe his great city filled people with, though he didn't miss the slight smirk hanging on Francis' lips. He knew he felt the same about Berlin, knowing that if their situations were reversed, he'd be smirking and showing off too.    The walk wasn't that long, but Ludwig found himself enamored with the sight of orange and gold leaves falling. It was a sight he had seen more times than he dare count, but it was som

   He let the book slip out of his hands to fall to the floor and join the three other books he had dropped, only this time instead of picking up another to try he hunched forward and buried his face in his hands, slumped over in defeat. No book he could buy could fix his life, the mess he himself had created. No matter how many self-help books he read there was nothing that told him how he could make it up to his brother, his friends, or the world. Nothing could make up for the atrocities he had committed during the war. The people he had killed.    Ludwig sighed and ran a hand through his hair for what had to be the hundredth time that day

    Mr. Melancholy has always been known to be a sad man.    Even as a boy his mother often fretted over his sad expression, always asking what was the matter. Yes, he had always been a sad man. His friends, would occasionally prod at him and try to discover the reason behind his sad face. But they all knew it was useless, he would always shake his head and give them that sad sad smile of his, telling them that it was nothing.   But it had to be something. You can't be sad without a reason, right? Right?    Mr. Melancholy has always been known to be a sad man.    He was a man who could often be found sitting by his window, watching th

today i'm going to sit in the backyard i'm going to sit there until i'm forgotten until my bright hues have faded under the sun like the cap of a lawn gnome i'm going to sit outside until i'm buried under years and years worth of soil trying to get those damn poppies to grow i'll sit outside until i'm wilted drowned by the endless rain of a five year old's watering can rashly pouring all the water on one plant each day i'm going to sit outside until i'm forgotten faded buried drowned i'm going to sit outside and wait to die like a dog

    Ludwig watched the orange and yellow leaves fall one by one, drifting down to the street, only to be swept away by the cool October breeze. He was in Paris, waiting in a little cafe, visiting his old friend Francis for the first time in a long time. The last time he had been here, it had been at the height of World War Two. It was an ugly memory he tried to push as far away from his mind as possible. Before then, the only times he had ever been to Paris was when his elder brother, Gilbert, would take him to visit his friend. Back when they were friends, that is.    So, needless to say, Ludwig was surprised when he was invited to spend th