So cretique is welcome, I enjoy comments as well. Enjoy ^.^
Edit: There were a few typos they are fixed now ^_~
Time Piece in My Pocket
Time: the passing of years, months, weeks, days, hours, minutes, and seconds. My Hand holds a timepiece, a timepiece that passes my life forward.
The moment my mother’s cold dieing hands released my quivering sorrowful ones… The moment I reached out to grab my brothers outstretched horror stuck hand as his body was taken to the other side…the moment my flesh was replaced with metal…
I hold this timepiece in the same hand, as the second hand ticks, so does my own time.
Wishing to erase the time already passed. Return to the time when my brother and I were whole, when my mothers time still existed. Wanting what was lost, we couldn’t turn back. We left out home in ashes, our thoughts forward.
My now armored brother and I journeyed to find a way to become one of the State Military. Becoming tied to the state was not our objective or concern, but becoming one would let us gain knowledge and research to the legend of a cursed stone that would restore us; Sinners.
My Alchemic skills were put to the test, which in turn I discovered by applying pressure in my scarred hands, the same hands holding this timepiece, created the wonders of Alchemy without a circle. I performed what many could not; I became a prodigy at twelve years of age. Something I never dreamed would happen in my time, in my quest to retrieve my lost time.
A girl as innocent as any child could be…why? Why, why, wasn’t her time sparred! And by her own father’s hands she was turned into a Chimera, a monster created by and for human pleasures. This girl was denied her time by experimentations.
I am not one of these Alchemists that are cruel to nature, cruel to their own. Time is precious… Her body splattered on the stone in front of me, her suffering has ended…but even in the chill of the rain, her blood in my hands, my heart did not fill with peace; Remorse for the stopped time, revenge for the creator and killer. I cannot turn back time then, anymore than I could before, but I must try… try for the sake that I don’t want other’s times to cease.
A serial killer, a murderer for amusement humored at the stopping of the time of my beloved childhood friend, and soon turned his murderous ways upon me. I screamed as the sharp blade came towards me. All I could do was run, run away so my time wouldn’t stop. I had a chance to be free from this kills grasp; I swung my arm to be rid of him for stopping others times again, but my brothers comforting hand restrained me. He stopped me from doing what deep down I didn’t want. I wasn’t a killer or a savior; I’m an insignificant human, with scarred hands holding onto time, for others and myself.
Scar, the name of the man who too was scarred as his name implied. Taking revenge for the death of his fellow mans lost time in the name of God.
He attacked my brother’s armored shell and came towards me, tearing my metal arm apart. He gave me the opportunity to pray… I was grateful for the gesture, but I stopped believing; the moment my mothers time passed away and I tried to bring her back, but lost my brothers time instead.
I began to wonder if God laughed at me as I ran around from place to place to return my brother and I, that my attempts were inevitable that because I crossed in His territory and to bring my sweet mother back. Doomed to go through the rest of my time with guilt and disappointment with each lead we had on the cursed stone, the only hope of my brother becoming human once more.
I wonder if he would have been better off with his time ended. When the Scarred Man broke him, he didn’t feel pain, just as he has little emotion of feeling that one-day his time could end; it’s a hollow feeling like his empty armor…
Was I just scared of being alone and I wanted his sweet spirit to be around me at all time? Am I guilty of keeping his time as well as ending it?
My thoughts lasted minutes and my time was spared once more. Spared to continue my search.
I was useless without my mechanical limb to do Alchemy, so I had to return home for the first time in three years to repair it, so I could rebuild my brother. The only family we had was waiting for us, and quickly rebuilt us.
Why… why did she have to see my timepiece in my pocket? She held sympathy towards me as she gazed at the date engraved inside my Military recognition. October 3rd, Don’t Forget. Yes, I carry my guilt in my pocket like a child, though I seem mature enough to take responsibility and bare the burden of my past time, I am haunted by it. Though our house went up in flames, I am haunted till the daytime is repaired like my arm, or my time completely ends.
The Philosopher’s Stone; the cursed stone, the legend or the myth? No, it became so because of its curse. In order for it to function a human’s time must be offered. It can’t be, I won’t let it be the only way. There must be a different way that no one has discovered, so I continue my search until my time runs out.
Why… why must time be disregarded? Even if you’ve been turned into a soul inhabiting a suit of armor and you’ve been guarding a secret, you don’t have to forever, live in the world like my brother, even if you were a murderer you can change who you are. Don’t throw away your time like it’s nothing, you are human… human enough to live. I tried to stop you, but you gave up… another time I was unable to prevent from stopping.