Post by Clopin/Akima/Mushu/Tzipporah on Nov 18, 2011 5:30:05 GMT -5
”Dad,” the 16 year old said sternly, but with sadness in his voice. The man in front of him sat down with his face hidden in his hands, shaking his head softly.
“You have to tell him dad,” his oldest son told him again, clenching his fists. “He need to know.”
His father just kept on shaking his head, trying desperately to think of a solution. “I can’t…”
“If you don’t then I will,” his son said determined and turned to go find his younger brother. His father quickly got up and grabbed his arm, stopping him from going any further. “No Luca, I’ll do it,” he said quietly, looking down at the ground. “Just give me some time-“
“We don’t have time!” Luca interrupted him. “Clopin could be dead tomorrow for all we know!”
His father flinched at his son words. Dead. Gone. Just like his wife already was. It had been half a year since his wife was killed, and he had a hard time leading the rest of the gypsies. For making things worse, his youngest son was ill. Fatally ill.
Apparently he had always been, it just got worse after his mother’s death. He started to cough a lot more, cough up blood that is. But other than that he seemed fine. He was still energetic, never sitting still.
But his healers had told him it would get a lot worse. It was a miracle little Clopin hadn’t died yet. Only time would tell when he would stop moving. It could be in a few years. It could be tomorrow or even now. They didn’t know what could’ve caused this. Be it a sickness or some sort of curse, they had no idea. But they did know that it couldn’t be cured. There’s was nothing no one could do for the young boy but to wait for his death.
Luca bit his lip, feeling his eyes tear up but didn’t let any tears fall. He would stay strong for all of them. Even try to find a cure for his little brother. He didn’t believe what the others told him. There had to be something they could do! They can’t just stand there and wait for him to die. His dad was a coward for not wanting to tell Clopin the truth. If he did then the boy would be more careful and take better care of himself.
“Don’t tell him yet,” his father begged him again and sat back down.
“Why not?!” he hissed.
He closed his eyes. “Because I rather Clopin had a short happy life than a long, painful life in fear.”
Luca stared wide eyed at his father.
He stood up again and put his hat on, giving his son a sad smile. “You’ll understand when you have your own children, son,” he said softly and turned to walk out of the court. “Don’t tell anyone about this Luca. I don’t want them to treat him differently because of this,” he ordered before turning into smoke and vanishing.
Luca stared after the current gypsy king in silence. Unaware to him, a ten year old boy was hiding behind one of the tents inside the court, having heard every single word of what his brother and father had said. He sunk down onto the ground, hugging his knees close to his chest. He stared blankly at his feet.
“So that’s why I cough up blood sometimes,” he mumbled to himself. He wasn’t scared. But sad? Yes he was sad, but couldn’t bring himself to cry. Everyone dies someday. Even him. He’s seen kids younger than him die a lot of times. But at least he would see mom again when he died. She was waiting for them to come to her. He smiled slightly. “I’ll soon see you again mommy,” he smiled and felt a tear roll down his cheek. “So Luca and daddy won’t have to worry about me…”
He sobbed and wiped away his tear. “And I’ll be happy all the time! Just like they want me to be!”
He smiled wider and hoped up on his feet. “I'll be the happiest kid ever. I’ll even make others laugh and have fun too before I die.”
He suddenly started to cough and covered his mouth. He felt a warm liquid come on his hand when he stopped coughing but didn’t pay any mind to it. He had to be happy, or else the others around him would be sad.
He felt someone pull at his shirt and looked around him, smiling at the little girl with worried eyes.
“Clopin,” she said concerned. “Are you ok?”
He crouched down and patted her on the head. “Of course I am Layla,” he laughed. “I always am.”
She pouted, not really believing him but didn’t say anything else. Clopin chuckled at the younger girl took her hand. “Let’s go play!” he sang and started to walk with her.
It would be better this way. No one needed to worry about him. He would soon be with his mom again, and later everyone one would be together eventually. There was no reason to be sad. Because he wouldn’t be left alone.
A year later his father died.
More years went by, and he found his brother murdered.
But he himself was still alive, feeling his body grow weaker the more time passed.
But he didn’t stop smiling.
((what's wrong with me? Seriously -_- everytime I write about Clopin it's all angsty and dramatic... aw well :3 Oh yeah, NO ONE knows about his "sickness" ok?
))
“You have to tell him dad,” his oldest son told him again, clenching his fists. “He need to know.”
His father just kept on shaking his head, trying desperately to think of a solution. “I can’t…”
“If you don’t then I will,” his son said determined and turned to go find his younger brother. His father quickly got up and grabbed his arm, stopping him from going any further. “No Luca, I’ll do it,” he said quietly, looking down at the ground. “Just give me some time-“
“We don’t have time!” Luca interrupted him. “Clopin could be dead tomorrow for all we know!”
His father flinched at his son words. Dead. Gone. Just like his wife already was. It had been half a year since his wife was killed, and he had a hard time leading the rest of the gypsies. For making things worse, his youngest son was ill. Fatally ill.
Apparently he had always been, it just got worse after his mother’s death. He started to cough a lot more, cough up blood that is. But other than that he seemed fine. He was still energetic, never sitting still.
But his healers had told him it would get a lot worse. It was a miracle little Clopin hadn’t died yet. Only time would tell when he would stop moving. It could be in a few years. It could be tomorrow or even now. They didn’t know what could’ve caused this. Be it a sickness or some sort of curse, they had no idea. But they did know that it couldn’t be cured. There’s was nothing no one could do for the young boy but to wait for his death.
Luca bit his lip, feeling his eyes tear up but didn’t let any tears fall. He would stay strong for all of them. Even try to find a cure for his little brother. He didn’t believe what the others told him. There had to be something they could do! They can’t just stand there and wait for him to die. His dad was a coward for not wanting to tell Clopin the truth. If he did then the boy would be more careful and take better care of himself.
“Don’t tell him yet,” his father begged him again and sat back down.
“Why not?!” he hissed.
He closed his eyes. “Because I rather Clopin had a short happy life than a long, painful life in fear.”
Luca stared wide eyed at his father.
He stood up again and put his hat on, giving his son a sad smile. “You’ll understand when you have your own children, son,” he said softly and turned to walk out of the court. “Don’t tell anyone about this Luca. I don’t want them to treat him differently because of this,” he ordered before turning into smoke and vanishing.
Luca stared after the current gypsy king in silence. Unaware to him, a ten year old boy was hiding behind one of the tents inside the court, having heard every single word of what his brother and father had said. He sunk down onto the ground, hugging his knees close to his chest. He stared blankly at his feet.
“So that’s why I cough up blood sometimes,” he mumbled to himself. He wasn’t scared. But sad? Yes he was sad, but couldn’t bring himself to cry. Everyone dies someday. Even him. He’s seen kids younger than him die a lot of times. But at least he would see mom again when he died. She was waiting for them to come to her. He smiled slightly. “I’ll soon see you again mommy,” he smiled and felt a tear roll down his cheek. “So Luca and daddy won’t have to worry about me…”
He sobbed and wiped away his tear. “And I’ll be happy all the time! Just like they want me to be!”
He smiled wider and hoped up on his feet. “I'll be the happiest kid ever. I’ll even make others laugh and have fun too before I die.”
He suddenly started to cough and covered his mouth. He felt a warm liquid come on his hand when he stopped coughing but didn’t pay any mind to it. He had to be happy, or else the others around him would be sad.
He felt someone pull at his shirt and looked around him, smiling at the little girl with worried eyes.
“Clopin,” she said concerned. “Are you ok?”
He crouched down and patted her on the head. “Of course I am Layla,” he laughed. “I always am.”
She pouted, not really believing him but didn’t say anything else. Clopin chuckled at the younger girl took her hand. “Let’s go play!” he sang and started to walk with her.
It would be better this way. No one needed to worry about him. He would soon be with his mom again, and later everyone one would be together eventually. There was no reason to be sad. Because he wouldn’t be left alone.
A year later his father died.
More years went by, and he found his brother murdered.
But he himself was still alive, feeling his body grow weaker the more time passed.
But he didn’t stop smiling.
((what's wrong with me? Seriously -_- everytime I write about Clopin it's all angsty and dramatic... aw well :3 Oh yeah, NO ONE knows about his "sickness" ok?
))
I'll give you that