First meeting with Lavender
* Sorry my english isn't good ... but i hope you can enjoy my writing ... * I just watched the man on the river bank. He stood quietly under the bald trees, turning his face to the sky as if he would waits for warmth from the weak autumn sun. I could not see his face now, but there was something in him what grabbed my attention . I could not hear a single word. He was silent. He did not whisper and not whistle even to his horse as he always did so kindly. He turned to the sky and, although no word was heard, i felt like he is praying. I saw him here on the bank for the first time a week ago. We never crossed each other's way. And yet ... by the time I became his invisible companion. Though I couldn't tell him what i doing here... But we were there. He cheerfully sang a song or sometimes with a book or a booklet in his hand . A young man in his thirties, in an elegant, but sometimes messy attire, with a dark, broad-brimmed hat on his head, which often covered his face. But now he was different. There was no song. There was no book or booklet. He was alone. Lonely . Infinitely lonely. His clothing is as immaculate as he would be dressed for a ceremony. His hat sat loyally on his head without even allow to the wind to separate it from his owner ... And I looked at him while he stared at the sky. And for the first time I wanted to know who he is . I wanted to figure out what he is looking for here at this godforgotten place ... what is the endless loneliness that comes from him ... But I felt impossible to reveal my presence. I knew I'd be like an intruder. I felt panic because of the thought of he could see me . Those eyes ... he never thought he was not alone, suddenly face me ... So I just watched him . The man didn't move. His long coat danced in the wind, but he was elsewhere in spirit , he stared at the white sky. Then, the statue came to life. I saw his hand slowly go under his coat with confidence and he is looking for something . He is searching , maybe hesitating, but finally deciding ... The man's arm gone up high. My eyes followed the move until he stopped. He held something. And he put that thing directly to his temple. A gun ... Time accelerated. As if my thoughts were the bullet what is ready to kill somebody , all the thoughts were raceing in me. They snapped, exploded. Anger, panic, and terrible terrible fear ... But it was as real as a knife that penetrates into the heart. I didn't want to see this. Of course, I didn't want to see as a man kills himself . To see how the headshot smashes everything ... .. that only a dark puddle and a bloody body remains in the dust and frost ... But most of all, I didn't want to see him to die. I never knew him and I thought I will not know him ... but... the death of the stranger ... I felt this is more terrible than I could beare ... that strange feeling seemed to come from something what didn't even exist yet ... I wanted to run away. Far away. But I didn't move. My eyes were on his hands in the air and watched the gun. I felt all my nerves were painfully tense. A crow screamed. Its voice cracked the silence, like a hit to the glass. But I have heard the trigger's terrible click. It hurt my eardrums too . "No!" My own voice, with a second before the gun's rumble, came out . It resonated in the air. It not sounded like my voice. It was a scream. A beg ... I saw the dark hat fly into the air and I watched how as a bird it landed just a few steps away from me. I froze. The smell of the gunpowder took my breath away for a moment , the smoke covered me... But in my mind i almost saw the dead man infron of me. But what I finally saw was surprising and scary at the same time. The stranger was not lying on the ground. He wasn't dead. He lived. I stood there. He looked at me. But he was no longer as calm as he was before. His messy hair had fallen into his forehead, but it didn't cover his glance. His dark eyes were on my face and he looked deeply into my eyes. I hardly could breath because of the anger I saw into these eyes . Fury and something else in his eyes ... tears. It seemed like he couldn't sleep since days ... There was a tired , feverish spark in his eyes ... Face to face , he looked like a ghost ... I stepped back instinctively. But the man didn't move. he just stared at me like he would want to kill me with a glance . But he did discipline himself. He put the gun back into his pocket. Then he did a few steps to me silently ... In my life i never felt that i'm so evil like i felt at that moment ... i'm evil because i didn't let him to harm himself ... "I...I'm sorry ..." - I whispered . But the man didn't answer. He bent down and picked up the hat from the ground. In silence he dusted the headgear and yellow leaves fell at my leg from it . I watched as he examined the hat. He raised it to his eyes and he twriled it in his hands. He knew what to look for because he found it right away. One of his fingers discovered the hole what the bullet made , above the flange . "Go to hell ..." He murmured nervously. His voice was clear and deep but full of contempt. "I really sor ..." "I said , go to hell!" He didn't shout. But I almost started to cry when i heard his words. I wanted to say what I thought I should to say. But the man didn't wait until i could speak. He put the hat on his head with a firm motion and he left me alone.
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