Waking up
The young woman leaned on the tree trunk; it was a large tree, with bark of an almost unnatural shade of deep red. The wind whistled its own glorious melody trough the tree tops, making the otherwise straight light brown hair on the woman's head tousled and messy.
Anyone watching the natural play between mother earth, the singing wind, and the woman would have described it as just one word, "peace."
Peace a quite strange little word: for some, it can mean much, while others do not care in the least if there is peace in the world. It is a cliché and a lie. There is no such thing as peace or love; there have just always existed some overestimated words in this foul world. There is regret and hate, both strong emotions you will always know you feel; if you start loving some one, you never know if you will stop, but if you ever feel an insanely spitting hate towards someone, it will never really go away.
She wiped her eyes with her knuckles. She knew some of the things she said were lies, but she could not help it.
"Don't you fucking dare cry."
Two butterflies floated trough the air in complete harmony, their wings fluttering in colourful waves.
Free from any worries for the world outside their happy bubble, they lived as if this day was their last. They did not bear any burden; they did not have the world's problems resting on their nonexistent shoulders. They did not know anything except themselves. Theirs lives went on to find someone special and equally flawless and colourful. Loving was not their problem; it was to find love. Because if they ever found someone, it meant something big that would last forever; even if the feelings lost their marvelous sparkling, they would stay in place where they belonged, the passion still aglow even when the days got its mark on them.
Living as if every day were you're last, I would have spent it crying, bleeding over the sorrow of the wound where my heart would have been. I'd have cried many bitter tears because of the pain I've felt, the pain I still feel sometimes deep down; every time I get reminded of the mistakes I've made and the day I left living to go somewhere else. I went today to this tree to believe in the world's wonders. It is a magic tree; there is a legend that says the tree will make your deepest regret and decision undone, but you must have the knowledge of how to love.
I cannot love. I do not believe in the power of love being unnatural and overly powerful.
It is just an emotion. I have felt the illusion. It was an illusion, because if it had not been one, I would have loved him still and this tree, somehow, would have thrown some magic powder in the air, taking me back to the place where it happened.
It was the most horrible event I have ever gone through. I saw him with an insanely beautiful girl, walking along the hallway hand in hand, sometimes stopping to kiss each other.
I stood in a corner, dropping my books on my feet.
I had hoped I was different, that I was not just one of the other girls. I wanted his love for me to be true so much that my heart hurt. I told myself he did every second, minute, so in the end I had fooled myself into believing in my stubborn wish; apparently the most devastating mistake for my self-esteem.
It was my fault, which is where my regretting started, the purpose of why I do not feel.
He destroyed me in a way unforgettable, but I will not tell the world.
I am too ashamed; I cannot hold a secret from a friend without feeling uneasy, so I pushed them away, every single one of them. I have not seen you since that day, mostly because I ran away with tears burning in my eyes with no idea of where to go. I wanted to confront him about it, scream out all my pain so he would know how much it hurt. I have played little acts with my memories, trying to change them and in them, I do not run away but walk up to him and punch him straight in the face.
Her empty eyes stared out at the open water.
She made a silent wish.
Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder.
She felt oddly warm where it touched, yet she did not cast a glance to look at the intruder of her private moment; instead, she attached her gaze on the two yellow butterflies who sat together on a pink flower, fluttering their wings happily. "I wonder if that is their way of kissing," she thought out loud to herself.
I wish I were a butterfly, she thought. Therefore, I just could fly away and never look back.
The hand squeezed a little harder, as if to give comfort; it actually felt nice to have someone supporting you even though you did not care to look. She didn't know why she hadn't been overwhelmed with paranoia and punched whoever stood there as she would have done in a normal case. She didn't want to know who; it would break the moment they experienced. For the first time in a very long time, she felt peaceful, as if nothing bad could ever happen. She did not feel any tears burning, neither did she feel the need to wash away the non-existent dirt one her pale skin; it was as if she had a inner force washing her blackened soul clean.
Her heart suddenly did not feel so heavy, but the weight on her shoulders remained.
It felt like she was scrimping, smaller and smaller. It was as if the world's problem did not exist any longer, or more likely, they did not matter to her as much as they used to do.
She felt lighter.
Like she could float away; she felt free.
She turned around to watch who the owner of the hand was, but all she saw was a pair of colourful eyes and grey wings. He was beautiful.
She felt something fluttering on her back, and soon realised that they were wings, wings almost as red as a cherry and lined with a light golden colour.
No; it is not possible, she thought. "I was not serious," she lied.
The fairy man gave her a look. However, a smile graced his pale complexion. He gave her a look full of respect.
"Try them."
"No way," she whispered, now trying to float a bit over the ground. Tears filling her eyes because of the overwhelming feelings that rushed through her mind and body.
She looked back at the tree and realised then… someone fulfilled her wish after all.
Love is not an illusion anyway, she thought before leaving Earth with her new lover.
Sparkles of magic dust followed them gracing earth with happiness.
It was not with the one she really loved but it was good enough for her because…
She was not numb anymore.
Finish