Burn tragedy stories

fivecents The crows are calling for disaster
Autoplay OFF   •   2 months ago
a very sad tragedy about the life of a campfire


As soon as they breathed life into me, I was born. Young at first, and weak, like all new things that enter the world. Luckily I had protectors.

They cared for me, nurtured me and fed me until I could become strong and grow bigger. The little ones enjoyed feeding me the most, and I lapped up every bit of attention from them.

I loved them, they were my protectors. Once I got a bit stronger I would dance for them. They seemed to like watching me perform, always smiling and nodding at me.

I could tell my protectors were proud of what I had become. The little ones would especially like playing with me and keeping me company. All the while I was being fed by my generous protectors.

I grew stronger than ever, I was in the prime of my life. The only thing I could think of to thank them... was to dance for them. I danced for hours on end, never stopping.

These were my people I owed something back to them. The spark of my life burned for them. I filled them with warmth and I was happy. I danced.

Later, as the night wore on, I could see my protectors eyes grow heavy. I tried to keep dancing for them, but it became increasingly hard because I was no longer getting nourishment.

Even the little ones had stopped playing and laughing with me. It almost seemed like my protectors were displeased with me. I could see them wanting to move on, some of them even left me.

Slowly I became weaker. My burning spark of life grew dimmer. I was aging, I could feel it. There were no more smiles, no more laughter, I felt like I had failed them in some way.

But how could I ever make it up to them? The life was draining out of me and draining fast. Soon I was reduced very small, I was old and weak.

I could no longer perform for them the dances they once loved to see. I needed nourishment and care desperately but no one would give it to me.

I wanted to cry out, get their attention any way I could, but was too weak, and they were not paying attention. Soon I was barely anything, almost like ash or dust.

I was practically on my deathbed. I couldn't be cured again unless someone took the time. Unless someone cared. I know now that I must have failed them.

Why would they stop looking after me if I didn't. I missed the hours where they were all gathered around me laughing and smiling at my performance.

A fire burning in their eyes as I was in the prime of my life. Now that fire was replaced with a dull uninterested stare, like they were bored and waiting for something better to happen.

Slowly I continued to fade, this sad picture before me while I breathed my last breaths. The night grew ever longer and I grew ever weaker until I was dust.

The blazing spark of life I felt before was gone, now I was nothing but a single ember. I saw the last of my protectors nod and start to leave. Alone. I was left to die at last.

I had given my best for my protectors but in the end they left me to die, cold and alone. There was no more love for me and no more love I could give.

Even still I knew I had given everything. There was nothing more I could have done to make them love me anymore. With this last thought in mind, I gave my last breath...


Sorry for the tears you probably shed, I know... incredibly sad tragedy Thanks for reading if you did :) - @fivecents

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