Only Four

In the dim light the ceiling provided, an anniversary hung heavy on everyone's hearts.

Boy, Girl, July, and the well were all powerless against something such as this.

Under the date is why they even existed. The pit in which Boy and Girl were created. Why July had so much power. How she chose just who was lifted from the well.

Death was the one thing they could never comprehend. It didn't exist where they were from, and thus why they were lacking.

The longing they felt was for a stillness they could never obtain. Always something was moving, thriving, giving a meaning to a life without an end.

You could look upon their ageless faces, and there among the smooth planes, just barely hidden by soft smiles and lips that never ceased to form light words, were the years they had taken advantage of.

Years wasted away in meaningless games and play that held no real value. Years they had once thought were too short, so easily becoming longer the more they experienced.

They could hold themselves, motionless, in a silent room darkened by a starless night, and still the hours passed by like their own faces. So familiar, but never truly looked upon.

Never important.

They could focus on the lives around them, so many who knew exactly what they could never. So many who feared what something that looked in the dark for all but them.

But even so, they didn't stand a chance to ever relate to life other than theirs.

Because life usually ended in a death so pure that someone, somewhere, had to feel pain.

And the only thing that tied them to that was the pain from which they were born.