It is burned into my memory, that particular day, the way the sun shone through the trees, the smell of the forest that lay at my feet, the taste of my tears as they slid their way down my face. I can't forget it, and yet I hate to remember it, it is a weight that I always feel slumping my shoulders, and yet I am forced to bear it all, without question.(By, now, I am sure you are all equally confused as to who I am, and what I am so upset over, or perhaps you don't care, either way, I will not tell you what you want to know, I will only tell you what I want you to know. You won't be informed of what has left me in tears, only of what occurred as they were falling, I won't tell you how I got where I am, only what I saw once I got there, all for the better, really. You see, when people see others at their lowest, or hear of how they got there, they judge and torment in great fits of arrogance, and I hope little knowledge of my situation will prevent this cycle of pain and sorrow, I need no more, as it would seem.)
So, here goes nothing, the day that I fell apart, a day like any other, and yet like no other all at the same time. I don't know how to begin, seeing as for me, that was the end, but I suppose, it should start as I ran,refusing to allow for rational thought. I ran like the dogs of the world were on my heels,and its people were screaming profanity and blame in my ear, and yet, I knew running was futile, that racing through the woods would do little else but leave me weak and tired, but I still did it. Branches slapped my cheeks, deepening the red color that already lay there from my continuous weeping, and yet I did not notice or care, not with this ache in my chest only growing and the hurt twisting like a coil of writhing snakes in my stomach.
I went on for sometime like that, just running, foot steps leaving imprints in the heavy earth below my sneakers, air only just making it past my lips between my weeping and punishing speed. It is with almost complete certainty that I could have gone on, but something in me had decided against such a move, and so with the elegance of a portly bull, I slammed my feet to the ground below and allowed momentum to do the rest. Now I rested firmly on my knees, head bowed low, salty droplets sliding along the leaves below, it is here I stayed, it is here I cried, and it is here I sobbed, all of it leaving me vulnerable to any attack, be it wizard or dangerous creature, but all the dangers of the world did not exist at that moment. Only the feel of my face, as heat radiated off it in waves and the smell of the blood in the air, existing solely to torture me, mattered, all that matters now, I suppose, for you see it was a day like any other but like no other all the same.