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Rated: ASR · Prose · Romance/Love · #2058127
I don't remember how I ended up hating them or how they came to control my life.
Silver. Everywhere it was silver. The bright shining of a desire never met.

There I stood, my hair in ribbons. Waiting, waiting.

"I waited for you."

I was wearing red. Red, the abrasive colour of rough passion, ragged hopes. I usually hated red. Right now, I could wear nothing else. I wasn’t to be picky.

The two ends of the station were open. Winds calling from both sides. It was cold, but I collected myself somehow. I was waiting. I didn’t have time to be cold.

But I was anyways.

---

"You were there."

Unexpected, there was no other way to say it. There you were on the other side of the platform, lights in your eyes. God, you were beautiful. It’s not something I could say. But you wouldn’t want me to.

I wanted to rush to your side. My soul was trembling. You were too wonderful; I didn’t deserve you in the first place. Your voice, though… I heard it again. Tears flowed freely now. I hadn’t heard you for so long.

"You loved me."

The whispers, the murmurs of a lover. No, they’d never understand. You held me soon after.

"And like a speeding train… everything came back."

----

"You never came."

Off the ground, freezing and heartbroken. My soul was screaming. On the ground, the train rushes by, faces plastered against the windows. I’ve never been more terrified in my life.

I cried, but the tears didn’t last. The sickness did. The sickness ate me alive. The train was so close. It felt as though I would be crushed against the wall at any moment.

For awhile I had been blinded. You always fooled me, didn’t you? You’re so different now.

"It killed me."

Off the ground, I jumped to meet my death. On the ground, silver daggers you threw at my chest. Twice I died loving you.

"I might still forgive you."

---

How could I forget? He was still standing there, staring at me. I still ached for him sometimes. But you would take my pain away. You loomed over him, smiling your handsome smile. In his hand, a single red ribbon.

I twirled my hand around it. Lord, give me strength. Away I pulled it.

Softly, slowly.

"You can’t see me anymore."
© Copyright 2015 Valerie Rutherford (fireflyslocket at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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