The second story from Minutes to Midnight series. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade, the characters nor the song Valentine's Day by Linkin Park.
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VALENTINE'S DAY
A busy city, crowded street. There are times when such images would make a person with inborn or developed sense of art stop in mid air and admire the alluring view that lies right in front of his eyes. This could apply to those magical nights, when neon- and streetlights flicker with various colours or evenings, when the sun, before finally hiding behind a horizon to bring darkness and well deserved rest upon lively town, sends its last beams like soft kisses and floods the city with warm, gold light. In such moments even the dullest place may look breathtakingly.
Moscow this day was anything but breathtaking. Grey street, grey cars, grey buildings, grey people under the grey sky. Everyone was in a rush; some people were going to pick up their spoiled children from pushy, private schools; some wanted to get as far as possible from their abhorrent work and fat, obnoxious boss, with who they had to put up eight hours a day to earn their living and feed the family. Others were hurrying to a meeting with old friends in a pub, friends that they hadn't seen for ages, and preparing to show how they succeeded in their life while mates from high school didn't. There were also people focused solemnly on getting home, to find themselves in secure arms of their lovers.
No one seemed to notice a young man, in his early twenties, standing alone on the pavement as the crowd passed by. The cold wind was playing with his hair, which had unusual colour – two shades of blue. Normally people would stare at him, but that day he wasn't spared even a single glance; too occupied with their own business, their eyes didn't stop on him as he would be invisible. His hands, not covered by gloves, must have been freezing, but he didn't do anything to warm them up. A pure white scarf was his only piece of clothing that indicated it was actually February. The ends of the scarf were flying in the air, creating a dignified aura around the young man. He looked like he wasn't affected by the cold at all, or at least he didn't acknowledged it, though an occasional shiver run through his able-bodied form from time to time. His whole figure looked crestfallen, his scarlet eyes, once holding so much emotions, life and passion, now completely deprived of it, dull and empty, were downcast.
My
insides all turned to ash / So slow
And blew away as I collapsed /
So cold
A black wind took them away / From sight
And now the
darkness over day / that night
And the
clouds above move closer
looking so dissatisfied
but the
heartless wind kept blowing, blowing
The crowds were still washing over him like a river. Someone hit him accidentally; at first he didn't show any reaction at all, but after a moment he lifted his head to look at the sky; it was like the sudden contact brought him back from his musings. Dark, almost black clouds were gathering, threatening the world with their look. The young man started walking, giving impression of not having an exact destination. It was a wrong impression, though. His steps were inevitably leading him to a particular place, even if his mind didn't register it. His body moved on its own, overcoming the previous numbness, though his consciousness was still only semi-aware of his doings.
I used
to be my own protection / But not now
Cause my path had lost
direction / Somehow
A monumental, iron gate appeared right in front of his eyes. It wasn't closed, one strong push was enough to get in. The man realized that the monumental shape of the gate was meant to abraid respect, it guarded the peaceful rest of those who laid behind it. The message was clear: 'If you're not ready to respect this place, leave'. The young man has seen this gate many times, but he hasn't been able to pass it since that day. He looked over the cemetery and headed to a secluded spot, under two birches. Yes, he hadn't been here since that day. The day when his world collapsed. The day when he lost everything precious he had. The day when his eyes became empty.
A black
wind took you away / From sight
And now the darkness over day /
That night
Dark clouds had already covered all the sky above him. Wind blew with even greater force than before. He remembered that day all too well. Closing his eyes, he saw the beautiful face, pale, eyes shut like when sleeping. He didn't even have the chance to say goodbye… .
And the clouds above move
closer
looking so dissatisfied
and the ground below grew
colder
as they put you down inside
but the heartless wind kept
blowing, blowing
A single tear fell down the man's face. It was the first one since then, he couldn't cry that day. This single tear has become a trigger; all emotions, grief and sorrow, hidden deep inside his soul was now released. The man fell down to his knees, sobbing in despair.
So now
you're gone
And I was wrong
I never knew what it was like
To
be alone
On a Valentine's Day
On a Valentine's Day
On a Valentine's Day
On a Valentine's Day
On a Valentine's Day
Snow begun to fall. Two leafless birches weren't enough to protect from it the marble tombstone with simple words 'Tala Ivanov, 1989-2009' written on it. A single white rose, which was put on the tombstone, was slowly being covered by a soft, pure white blanket.
***
Frankly speaking, I believe this one came out quite good. Do you agree with me?
Happy Valentine's Day! I want Kai to be my Valentine… and Tala… . Yeah, I know I'm greedy…