- She stood there, with the weak autumn wind brushing softly on her exposed skin. It followed every curve on her body, and it swam through the tangle of brown hair that limply lay on her shoulders. Her smoke grey dress was snug to her shape, and it accented her eyes. Those beautiful eyes that were once so bright with life and joy, but now seemed tainted with black fluid that was like a dark poison. It swam around her pupils like an eel, driving the life out of her.
Her beautiful facial structure had gone to waste now. Black rings circled her eyes, and she had a dead glow to her skin, like a crow’s feathers. Tears were running down her colorless cheeks, falling to the ground like a silent rain.
In her delicate hands was a chrysanthemum. Its white petals drooped slightly, and death was taking it slowly. The brown had already formed on the edges of some of the outer petals, but the heart of the flower had a hope to it. The hope that the promise would be fulfilled after all. A hope that someday he would come to her, and she would feel again.
She longed to feel.
The red slash looked out of place of her ivory wrist. The blood from the wound dripped to join her tears. Every second that she looked at the ground, it seemed more inviting. She felt like being buried alive. She had thought it through many times. First, she would be afraid of what would happen, but then she would welcome the feeling of asphyxiation in her throat and lungs. She would laugh as all the oxygen was consumed and she could no longer breathe, and then it would all go black and she would be dead. She could be relieved from the pain and the sorrow of knowing that she’ll never know him, touch him, or feel the warmth of his lips on her own. She wanted to hold him in her arms and feel his heart beat in his chest on her breast. She longed to look into his gorgeous eyes and find a dark secret in them. A dark, painful secret of his past, whatever it may be.
Then, she saw him. The landscape was different then the one she had left behind, but it seemed strangely familiar. The stone streets were a dirty grey, and the smell of salt water filled her nostrils. The place seemed deserted except of a figure overlooking the ocean from the rail of a great bridge.
Her feet moved immediately in this person’s direction. As she got closer, she stopped dead.
It was him.
A great joy washed all of her emotions out of her and she cried with delight. Trying to regain movement, she sent a command to her muscles, but they wouldn’t budge. She tried several times before his voice cut her off.
“I wish I could remain, but it’s just a visit.”
The words confused her. What the hell did that mean? It’s not like there was anywhere he could go. Except-
A terrible feeling gurgled in her gut as she watched him move. He climbed onto the stone railing of the bridge removed his coat. With every second, the feeling got stronger until she could bear it no longer.
“No!”
Too late. He had jumped from the bridge into the sea below.
Panting, she awoke. The landscape was normal again. Those friendly fields surrounded her again, and the autumn breeze had settled lazily again. The sun was stagnated over the horizon, and its warm rays sent a funny feeling down her spine.
She was on the ground now. Her dress was stained with tears and blood. The chrysanthemum rest a few inches from her bleeding hand. Propping her head up, she stared at it. The outside petals had all turned brown now, and the heart, the one sign of hope, had died. It was split open at the center, with black liquid spewing from it.
Her neck started hurting, and she lowered her head to the ground in a way so her muscles could rest, but she had a good view of the bleeding chrysanthemum. A wave of sorrow washed over her, and she smiled. She was thinking of him. Through the years that she had been in love with him, she had memorized all of his features. She knew his eyes were bracken brown, and that his skin was a pale ivory, like hers. His lips were full, and they looked warm and soft, but cold and icy as well. And his voice. His voice was that of angels. Whenever she heard him talk, she shivered and was caught in a trance. When he sang, she never wanted him to stop. It was the only time she felt happy. Truly happy.
With his being in her mind, she looked away from the flower and up to the sky. It had darkened significantly, and the crows had started circling her body. She knew they were hungry. No farmers had grown corn here for thirty-seven years, and they hadn’t bothered to find a new ground. Perhaps they sensed her misery and knew she would have to kill herself to end it. But that didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except him.
A smile crept across her face, and a supernatural message left her.
‘I’m left for dead, end me.’
And they came.
