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This fanfiction article, Hope You're Doing Well, was written by Underlord1271. Please do not edit this fiction without the writer's permission. |
It really is a beautiful day, isn’t it?
Just… stop here, and appreciate it. The puffy white clouds in the sky, the walls of heat streaming across the lush green valley. The simplicity of it all, but also its complexity. The great beasts who once roamed these plains, and the tiny ants who still do. How, despite our knowledge of all nature’s little secrets, we can still stand still and feel embraced in its mystique. I’ve always loved nature, and I know you do too.
Sorry, I guess it has been a while since I’ve talked to you, hasn’t it? Let’s keep going uphill now. I can get a little exercise while I gush about nature.
You know, I’ve said a lot about nature, but I haven’t told you what it says about us. I like to think that, really, we are nature. That we’re all just a little part of the planet, waiting to go back. We can see that here- sometimes the dirt is dry and rough, like an old man’s skin. Other times it is warm and full of life, like a newborn baby. Sometimes the sky is gray and weeping, and other times it is bright and joyous. Nature is as expressive as any one person, really. Even more so, on a day like today. Those beautiful clouds are there, yes, but marks of sadness as well.
We’re getting close to the summit, and I can feel it. With my feet I feel a light crackle in the ground, pieces of glass tucked under a blanket of dirt. With my hands, I can feel the smoothness of the rocks, melted and changed into a form they did not possess when they sprung from mother nature. At the peak, I see signs that nature isn’t always okay. Far, far away, there are towers, shooting chemicals high into the atmosphere. Ships, taking people away from year-long shifts working to restore the environment. Restore memories.
That’s why we’re here, isn’t it? On top of Mt. Graci, where I proposed all those years ago. Where I can finally say goodbye.
I brought your heart here, the one you made in metal shop. The one you gave me when we started dating. The one you wore at our wedding. I’ve kept it, but now I’m giving it back to you. I’ll throw it to the wind and you will catch it, in our special place. Like I said, we’re all just a little part of the planet, waiting to go back.
I laid them all to rest, you know. Except you. Made peace with it. Until a few years ago, I never thought I could ever come back here. Give you a proper memorial. But now I can. So I’ll speak to you one last time.
Fifty-Three Years Later.