Greatly Inspired by the song: Blinding by Florence and The Machine.

The story will feature lyrics from the song through out the chapters.

"And I could hear the thunder and see the lightning crack
All around the world was waking, I never could go back
Cos all the walls of dreaming, they were torn wide open
And finally it seemed that the spell was broken"

~*~

She smelled the heave scent of roses in the air. She knew it was impossible from where she stood, but how? she doesn't really know. It wasn't like She had actually been here before, of that she was sure, but she just knew that span of the lake had been surrounded by shrubs and overgrown weeds along edges, yet the scent had been so strong and over powering that she was sure they had to be near. She tried to move closer, but her feet felt wobbly and unbalanced as she stood on top of the rocks- waves of water crashing underneath them. When she looked down, she saw the silvery moon being reflected on the murky waters of the lake and then she saw them, the white petal of roses floating around aimlessly where they hadn't before. At that moment she felt an overwhelming sense of sadness.

Then, like a projector changing from one slide to the next, she found herself under the water and everything went pitch black.

This was it, she thought. She could fell his strength pushing her further down. His face was a shadow but she knew who he was. Two strong hands tightly placed on her shoulders, preventing her from coming up for air. She realized that he wasn't going to let her go--not until she was gone.

Her lugs were burning now, collapsing, as she struggled to keep her last breath. She kicked and screamed, but she only swallowed more water. She felt light headed, like everything that made her was disconnecting.

In the cruel wintry night of December she let the silence consumed her.

Arms floated weightlessly as she let the darkness come over.

He'd killed her, just like he'd always promised he would.

~*~

"Ruthie, honey wake up."

Ruthie's eyes flew open as she gasped for air, heart beating so fast she thought it would jump out of her chest.

I'd been another dream. A dream that seemed too real this time.

Annie, her mother, was sitting next to her on the bed.

"Honey," her mother's brow creased with worry. She brushed away some hairs from Ruthie face. "Was it another nightmare?"

"No" Ruthie said and she was, of course, lying.

She'd been having strange dreams for the past week. This one had been the most resent one, and the most vivid of all. She'd been in the lake surrounded by rose petals, and there was always someone out to get her-- someone who wanted her dead. It was just a stupid dream she'd told herself, though the uneasy feeling she often felt after waking still remained.

Ruthie's eyes scanned the room. She was in her room and it was morning. The sun's rays were penetrating through the thin yellow curtains like pointed lasers, casting a soft warm light inside. I'd been a dream. No, one big horrible nightmare.

"Where's Mac?" Ruthie asked.

Annie shook her head, looking concerned. "Ruthie, he's gone. You know that."

Ruthie, who of course knew this, sunk back into her bed, covering her face with the comforter not wanting to hear anymore. Unlike the nightmares that had plagued her for the past couple of days, this wasn't a nightmare she could simply wake herself up from. The accident had really happened. Every day for the past three weeks she'd woken up, and everyday she prayed for it just to a dream, but it never was.

The photo of Mac still lay on the side of the pillow next to hers. With one swift move of a hand she grabbed it and clutched it close to her chest. Ruthie turned away, and scooted herself to his side of the bed, curling her legs up to herself and allowing her eyes to close. It was only then that she allowed the tears to run free. She'd wished that they would all just leave her alone.

With every scent that invaded the room, his began to fade away. Ruthie could hardly smell him anymore.

"Here" Annie said, carefully peeling off the comforter from Ruthie's face.

Annie had placed a bowl of soup with a small bag of saline crackers on the nightstand. The hot steam could still be seen lingering in the air. It smelled like tomato soup.

"I don't want it."

"You have to eat" Annie insisted in a motherly voice that would normally work on Ruthie, but now all she wanted was to be left alone.

"I don't have to do anything." Ruthie snapped back, burying her face further into the flowery sheets.

Annie sighed and reached for the crackers, unwrapping the small bag patiently.

"Well, if you don't want to do it for yourself." She said, "Do it for my grandson."

Grabbing the spoon, Annie began to stir the soup next.

Ruthie's hands instinctually went to her abdomen, encircling her hands around her growing belly. She was six months pregnant now; the only indication of the fact had been the tiny bump sticking out like a small watermelon. At the mention of food her stomach growled in protest as if on cue.

And still, how could Ruthie explain to her mom that all she wanted was to fade away? The thought always made her feel guilty afterward. Ruthie knew she couldn't disappear now. She had to eat even if hunger was the last thing on her mind, if not for herself, for the baby growing inside of her who depended on her to keep him safe.

She reluctantly brought herself up, resting her upper body against the headboard of the bed. She ate in silence as she watched her mom maneuvering herself around the room, picking and folding clothes that had been disposed of on the floor from the day before.

I'd been a routine for the past couple of weeks for Annie to come into Ruthie's room, bring her breakfast, and clean her room. Ruthie knew that the rest of the house had probably been clean spotless, with all the laundry done for the day. Her mom and sister Lucy had been like working ants, taking care of the daily chores. They'd been staying at her apartment for three weeks now. Ever since the day of the car accident.

"Thanks." Ruthie said as took a bite from a cracker, "It's delicious."

In reality Ruthie hadn't taken that time to notice if it was delicious or not. All foods tended to taste the same when no time was taken to savor it or care to, anyways.

"Ruthie, you've never really liked tomato soup."

Annie smiled, and then added, "I'm just glad I don't have to fight you so hard to get you to eat something."

"I'm sorry for that." Ruthie said quietly as she cooled her soap.

"Make sure you eat everything" Annie said gently.

"Is Lucy here?" Ruthie asked, because Lucy would usually be joining them by now.

"Yes. She's with our first visitor of the morning actually." Her mom answered, distracted as she used her hands as dusters to clean and un-wrinkle the curtains the hung on the window.

Ruthie made a face. Visitors usually meant people who came over to the apartment to offer their deepest condolences. She knew they meant well, but with every visitor that came, it forced her to face the fact that he was gone for good, that she would never see him again. Ruthie already couldn't wait until who ever it was left.

"He's been waiting all morning to see you." Annie commented. Ruthie could feel her mom watching her from the corner of her eye. She was waiting for her to ask.

"Who is it?"

Her mom turned, and then said. "Martin Brewer."