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[27 Oct 2012|04:28am] |
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Ever since the weekend of darkness, Haydn had been closed up in his apartment. It wasn't the dark he feared. There was something else lurking there, even after the dark had lifted. He had caught the eye of some creature and he could feel it watching him.
Haydn's childhood had been a dark one, full of harsh adults, hunger, and being mocked by his peers for his poverty. He had left those years behind and built a name for himself and even after his mortal death he had never suffered the indignities of his youth. It was catching up to him.
He could feel it on the periphery. The Watcher brought those memories flooding back. He scrubbed his home from one end to the other every single day. He scrubbed himself head to toe twice a day. He made sure his clothes were impeccable. He played his violin and his piano until his fingers ached. He ate meal after carefully prepared meal, but still he could feel it.
The hunger.
It wouldn't leave him be. And with it came the fear of everything else.
[Friends]
I do apologise for my absence of late.
Something has come up.
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