Chapter 14 Thanatophobia

Snowing is an attempt of God to make the dirty work look clean.

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"GILBERT!" Screamed Genevieve. "Gilbert your grandfather!" Father?

The boy drops the axe from his hand and runs away from where he was cutting up fire wood. He ran into the house with Genevieve rushing behind him. He ran through the house leaving snow prints that mingled with dirt from his boots with every step he took. The hazel eyed boy broke open the door and laid eyes on his father, he was choking on his own coughs.

The boy rushes to his fathers side and takes a cloth and holds it up to his fathers mouth as his father begins choking out blood.

Emily, my sweet sweet child.. are you watching over me? Alias thought to himself as his coughs die down and he slowly leans back against his headboard. He closes his eyes and takes his sons hand into his own. "Do not stop living.." He shakily speaks, "Because I.. am not here.." He finishes.

"Father you will be okay, let me just go get the medicine-" Gilbert quickly says as he starts to get up and walk out of the room. Although his father catches his arm in the process, causing the boy to stop. Gilbert does not turn around, he stands there. His hand in the grip of his fathers.

"You can't leave too. I-I need you.." Gilbert cries out, his shoulders shuddering.

His father pulls his arm towards him and the boy hugs his father as he cries into his chest. "You're going to be just alright, you have people who care for you and love you. Death is not the end Gilbert, it is just the beginning of another lifetime. I'll be with your mother, I will be with aunt and uncle Flitcher. I'll be with them all. You will be okay because your strong." Alias states as he cradles his son.

"Now why don't you go fix me some soup. Genevieve can help you, and you can leave the door open. I am not going anywhere quite yet." Gilbert's father says as she chuckles at the smaller boy.

Gilbert looks at his father, he wipes his glossy eyes before nodding and taking Genevieve with him to the kitchen.

Alias closes his eyes again, a smile on his face. Thinking of all the years with his son; all the memories and all the adventures. His smile slowly fading, his closed eyes becoming less tense.

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"I don't understand, just a week ago he was doing better than what he has been doing. Doctor Carter said he was getting better. So why isn't he getting better?!" Gilbert spoke in anger and fear to Genevieve.

"Why don't you go check on Mr.Landon? I will finish the soup. It only has a few minutes left before it should be done." Genevieve gently spoke, focusing on the liquid food.

Gilbert nods his head to her and walks to his fathers room. He quietly knocks on the open door and sees his fathers eyes closed. "Father? The soup is almost done." Gilbert says as he gently sits on the edge of his fathers bed. Laying his hand on the cotton blanket his mother knitted for her and his fathers fourth year anniversary together.

The curly headed boy turns his attention to his father, eyes still closed. Gilbert scooted up closer to his father in attempt to wake him. "Father.." Gilbert said as he placed his hand on his fathers. The warmth and comfort was no longer there. His fathers hand was cold.

"Genevieve.." "Yes Gilbert?" Genevieve yells from the kitchen in response.

"Genevieve!!" Gilbert yells louder. His father still not responding or even flinching to the raise in his tone. Genevieve runs into the room, to only view Gilbert crying while holding onto his father. The child shaking his head back and forth while swaying his father in his arms. "You said you weren't going yet." Gilbert cried.

The maid took her hand to her mouth and covered it, tears brimming at her eyes.

"YOU SAID YOU WERNT GOING YET!" He screamed again.

Genevieve walked over and took Gilbert into her arms, causing Gilbert to let his father lay back on his bed. Gilbert pulled out of Genevieve's grasp and went to the kitchen. He put his hands on his head as he walked back and forth breathing heavy, his eyes springing with water. He turned and looked at the bowl full of soup, he picked it up and threw against the wall of the house that was once warm.

The shatter of the glass echoing through the house that now doesn't feel quite like home anymore. Gilbert ran out the door and went to the stable and grabbed his horse. He brought brought his horse out of the stable and put on its saddle.

The boy than lifted himself up onto the horse, taking the lead into his hands as he motioned for the horse to move.

"Gilbert?!" Cried Genevieve. Gilbert leaving her alone with the once so lively Alias Landon.

The curly headed boy began his journey; the cold winter air numbing his skin, the hairs on his arm standing end up. He did not bother getting a sweater, or a hat or anything that provides warmth. All of it was gone.

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He rode his horse for awhile until he reached the end of Quebec. The cliff before it's met with the ocean. The one that Merliah and him had been to before that one night.

Gilbert slowly slipped off his horse and let go of the lead, causing the horse to slowly walk around the icy field that used to be warm and full of blooming flowers and bright green grass. Now everything was cold, dull and white.

"Why does white seem worse than black.." Gilbert spoke to himself aloud. He walked to the edge, a couple feet from the cliff drop. The hazel haired boy looked out over the horizon. His eyes watering as they did before. His nose was red from the cold biting at his skin, his lips slowly loosing their pink color. His eyes red and puffy, and his hair a royal mess.

He stood there for awhile before he slowly sulked down to sit on the cold frozen grass. The frost wetting the fabric of his pants.

Everytime he breathed out through his mouth, a cold crisp white fog would escape his cold tender lips.

"..Well father" Gilbert spoke, his voice quivering as he stuck his head in his two hands, shaking his head back and forth.

"I guess your with the stars.." Gilbert finished. His loud sobs escaping him as he screamed. As he cried. as he cursed out God's name. "ARERN'T YOU FATHER?!" His voice echoing through the field as a hollow scream that opened his wounded heart.

He fell over to his side and curled up into a ball. His horse was now gone, probably seeking for warm shelter. Although Gilbert did not care, he did not feel anything but the cold stinging snow against his cheek as he fell asleep on the ground.

Cold and Grieving. He was alone.

A last single year escaping his right eye. It slid down his cold, numb cheek and planted itself against his lips. Than dripping itself from his lips to the ground, dampening the already iced grass.