| As she slowly made her way towards the back of the empty bus, her heart skipped a beat. Her destination was as of yet unknown to her and the rest of the world. She was simply a girl alone and lost in her own little world. She chose the last seat on the bus, and surrounded by no one, proceeded to gaze longingly out the window. In it, her reflection quietly stared back. �Who are you?� she asked her reflection. The ominous silence was the sole response Earlier that day, after leaving her mothers funeral, she had gone home, packed a small bag with the things she felt she needed the most and proceeded to leave the rest of who she used to be behind. She pulled out an old notebook from her bag as well as a pencil which was almost down to its last bit of lead and started to write: Maybe, whenever we lose someone we truly love, we lose ourselves too� and no matter how badly you want to hold on to them forever you just can�t. And like an insubstantial hand, reaching out to hold on to some invisible feeling, you wish that just for once you could reach out and hold on to them and not have to ever let them go. But sometimes, you do have to let go. And when you do, something else grabs on tightly; you�re never just alone in that envelopping darkness. Someone is always lurking around the corner, urging you to be someone you�re not and become something you could never fathom being. And that force that takes hold when you decide to let go is an angel. However, she is no ordinary angel, she is merely the carrier of darkness and heartbreak. She purely is� And in the dark, she is alone; surrounded only by the quiet and the black. She lives in solitude, comforted only by the memories of a life she�s never lived in a place she�s never seen. The silence that so often rings loudly in her ears, replaces any thoughts she might have otherwise had. One day she�ll fly away and leave all of this futility behind her. She smiles as though nothing will ever go wrong because she is indifferent to all that scars and her smile heals all wounds. She sits up there above us all, like a goddess of imaginary light, thinking that she is better than us all because unlike the rest, she cannot and will not allow herself to feel. It is because of the darkness; it fills her heart and soul with its depressing stories and devilish lies to the point where she cannot turn away from the winding path she has started to follow and she will eternally drag us down with her... |
| Death |
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