The 3rd Sin

A chill breeze blows across the dark night sky, goosebumps arise as a boy stares into the space above. Tears gently flow from his stinging eyes, and his breathing steadies from his burning lungs. The thought of blood burns his brain. Do it, do it, do it, do it, do it, do it. As each tear falls it floods the shadows. A clock strikes 3:15, it's in the am. It's quiet, the boy hears past the silence and he's voices whisper "do it, do it, do it, do it, do it" one voice in particular screams it at him. These voices chew at him until his ears are met with sudden sharp piercing noise, drops of blood form from this noise. He questions where this sin will be done, a place where nobody knows, it is then that he remembers the place where the trees curl and hold each other's wilted hands, the land of the dead.