Cellar Treasures and The Pain of Grief

Judging by the amount of people, I could tell that there was starting to be a shortage on girls, which meant that the guys would have a difficult few weeks.

The longer I sat by the tree, more people came out into the yard, as I had suspected, more guys than girls.

I buried my notebook into the ground, carefully covering it completely with the dry, cold, dirt.

My sudden return to reality made me notice how actually cold the floor was, still covered in snow, I looked up and saw how cloudy the sky really was, I got up and felt the wetness on the back of my skirt from the melted snow.

I went back inside to get changed and once I did I walked around the house when I chose to go downstairs into the cellar, it was more like a storage place but the workers use this place to hide away. They use it as a break room I suppose, since it’s isolated it feels less like the place it is. Less ugly. It isn't uncommon to find belongings that have been left behind by the workers.

This is where I find most trinkets that I take with me, someone leaves something and I'll wait a day or two before taking it. If the person has forgotten to grab it again it isn't my responsibility. Books are always my favorite find, however. But some other things I find have been very useful.

I quietly tiptoed around, looking under all the shelves in the dark room, checking all the corners and spots where things are more commonly left behind. Under furniture and on top of cabinets, over piles or in boxes.

I'd found a few items, most I deemed forgettable, things like buttons and pieces of string, and things that could be picked up later, a small wooden box which contained what seemed to be candy and one pretty necklace, broken, but still very beautiful.

I picked up the buttons and the small threads and a few strands of yarn and took them with me.

Some might deem buttons and string a dumb thing to take but overtime they can be very useful, for many things. Containers or empty cans were also other people's trash but to me, they were almost precious.

As I kept looking around I heard a cry, if there was a way to embody pain, that sound would be it. It made me shiver.

I left the cellar, with the few items in a hidden pocket I'd sown into my clothes.

Walking out into the hallway, I saw a boy holding another boy in his arms. He was sobbing while aggressively trying to shake him awake.

It was a horrible sight to witness, painful, the care in his face slowly dying as the boy in his arms did. A whimper left his lips before a few sobs escaped their way out as well, numbness now prevalent. Watching people die everyday its

I knew the feeling, how it is to have your loved ones die, the way it tears your insides apart, making you angry at this place, wanting to burn it all down and scream.

But you can't do anything.

You just have to take it, let them slowly be gone, one by one.

I looked at the dead boy, his skin turning blue and cold, the part around his lifeless gray eyes very purple which tells me they'd tested something on his eyes not too long ago.

Perhaps making him blind.

His limp arms had bruises all over from the IVs, maybe they'd been testing him for a few days and just now let him go which had killed him suddenly.

A supervisor ran over and ripped away the corpse from its loved one, the one holding him yelling out to then be pushed onto the ground, his head on the floor but as angry and teary as ever, fighting against the 2 men holding him down.

His fighting continued for 2 minutes, getting gradually worse as his body spasmed and his voice started to break.

The supervisors had no option but to inject a tranquilizer into his shoulder, his body slowly losing its power but his attempt at fighting back never stopped.

I'd been in that situation once... before I met Rose...