No More

The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone.

It was raining. The skies held the grey of tombstones, crying out for ones' lost to the reaper of death. Silence hung in the air except for the leaves rustling in the damp breeze. Her steps were heavy as they sloshed through the puddles at her feet, splashing water upon her ankles and soaking straight through her worn shoes. Her eyes stared ahead, lifeless in the ability to see the felicity in the world.

Today was just another day, but different. Smiles didn't fill the air and laughter ceased to exist. Tears were often and pain was permanent. That was what she saw, what she believed existed in the dark world born in her eyes. The desolation crowding the busy streets, echoing off the buildings and shifting through the trees was what filled her heart.

Rain dripped down the strands of her midnight hair before falling to the ground with a quiet splash. Her face was buried in tears of regret and sorrow, long since shed, but she had no one to wipe them from her cheeks. A pale complexion blended with her usual lively skin, mixing to form a bluish tint. The cold vapors of the wind stung her bared arms and legs, penetrating through her flesh to numb her heart.

But was it just from the outside cold?

Her legs shuffled through the storm, as if weighed by a heavy burden. And in a way, she was.

She didn't believe it. Not at first. But as time wore on, she saw the truth behind the illusion of happiness; her nightmares becoming a reality. Everything taunted her, buried her, crushed her very soul into fragments so small that there was no hope to piece them together.

A car passed by, spraying a stream of muddled water at the young woman. She paid the wall of water no heed, taking the onslaught. Even as the muddy fluid soaked through the fabric of her clothing and pressed into her skin, she felt nothing - nothing except heartache.

It hurt to breathe, it hurt to think and it hurt to feel. She moved robotically to the sound of muffled voices, echoing as if coming from a tunnel. There was no relief to the burden of loss. As the days wore on, she began to relish its permanent scar. The gut-wrenching ache meant the memories she knew were real, that the happiness she felt before was real. But it was forever out of her reach.

A little girl ran pass her, mumbling an apology after an abrupt shove. Her eyes met the face of the lone woman and searched those dead pools of auburn. She seemed to hesitate a moment, her hand reaching for the woman, before the little girl took her leave. The pitter patter of her tiny shoes hitting the wet pavement disappeared as she vanished into the looming mist shrouding the city.

The girl wearing red immediately alerted the afflicted woman. But before her eyes could adjust to the bright color against her haze of grey, it was gone, leaving her to wallow in misery once more.

Simple things managed to stir feelings deep within her heart: a flash of color, the scent of pine, the warm glow of a fire. How could she have taken such things for granted? Did her mind truly believe that those things would always exist, would always be there for comfort? The dark-haired beauty let her eyes focus on the grey horizon of the cold autumn morning, suddenly struck with the pain of learning that sometimes there wasn't anymore.

No more hugs of comfort, no more moments to celebrate together, no more girl talk to divulge her deepest feelings, no more 'I'm sorry,' no more 'I'll be back' or 'see you later.' Sometimes, what you cared about the most went away - never to return. And she never got to say goodbye, to say I love you.

After the tragedy, the desire to live for those who couldn't raged within her, just as ferocious as the storm around her. Her heartbeats thundered through her body for each second that passed; the beast thumped against her chest, reminding her to keep breathing. But even a pure woman such as she could not quell the tempest within her. And soon she no longer wanted to, instead taking the assault upon her soul in a manner of defeat, giving up to the roaring heavens above.

Regret bore into her body just as much as guilt washed over her soul. Feelings should have been expressed earlier, apologies should have been given, fights shouldn't have started, and destinies should have been fulfilled. In the end, everything had been laid heavily on her shoulders, blaming her for the loss of lives and futures.

Her nose stung with foreboding tears, threatening to spill over her worn and tired eyes. But they would not burst forth. Her eyes were already dry after hours of crying. Her footsteps stopped in the middle of the street. She watched the rain wash down the sewers as the wind drove pass the channels of buildings, through the deserted streets. Slowly, her head fell back to give her eyes view of the weeping heavens. The rain fell into her forlorn gaze, but she did not blink. She was too afraid that a moment would pass where she could no longer remember those she had become attached to.

It was true - for her friends, her family, her love. Without them, she was nothing. They were worth sacrificing her life. They were cherished by many. They were saddened by few. And in the end, they made a difference in the world, enraptured those around them. There were just some things that make people happy, no matter what: The anger sparked in his protective voice, the tears falling from her kind eyes and the feeling of his hand upon her own. No one was perfect and everyone was flawed.

But did it really matter?

She thought about the countless times death stared her in the face, inviting her to join the darkness. Someone had always been there to shield her from the reaper of the dark, propelling her forward into the arms of light. She never believed they would one day take her place in the black void of death. All of those thoughts of keeping loved ones close - it was all for nothing. How could you keep them close when they were ripped away unwillingly?

A car horn sounded as it sped pass her, and she faintly heard someone yell from the window in annoyance. Couldn't he see she was mourning? Couldn't he see that the girl standing in the middle of the road was long dead?

Memories flashed through her mind like the lightning cutting the sky: a dark man, her love clad in red, her friends' determination. Darkness swallowed her whole. Tears filled the air. Screams pierced through the black night. Blood spilt across the grass. Cries reached the ears of the dead. And then nothing. No feelings. No thoughts. No movement. No sound. Everything was gone. Everything was there. And it stayed that way.

Desolate eyes found their way back from the grey sky to the dreary earth below. Slowly her feet began moving again, pushing against the asphalt, struggling to drive the girl forward in vain. But time no longer transmitted the hours or minutes that passed. It only conveyed the rising sun or falling moon in the back of her mind.

Having the ones you love died before your eyes, it was understandable that she acted the way she did. Alone and scared, she wandered aimlessly through the flooded streets, not caring that people worried about her in the present time. All she could think of was the past, a five-hundred year gap that she no longer wished to cross, knowing there was nothing left for her there.

Her hand found an ounce of strength, lifting to graze the brick building beside her. She found her legs leading her around the corner, not knowing the direction where she came or where she was going; only knowing life as it used to be. A mass of people greeted her vision as she stumbled through the crowd, ignoring the mumbles of annoyance spilling from the faceless beings.

Her body moved through life, but her spirit had fled long ago, joining her love in death. She was just an empty shell now, left in a world she didn't belong in. She was left with strangers who didn't understand and left alone with only memories for comfort.

But even as she walked the crowded city streets, no one stopped to take pity on the poor heartbroken girl. She was just one among many who had lost against inner turmoil.

The world would move on without her, because in that shell of a person she had become, Kagome was no more.