I didn't write this for anyone to actually understand it...It's really rather vague, something that's meant to be thought about. Though no names are mentioned, you will know who "she" is. Otherwise, I obviously wouldn't have posted this at all. Anyways, my feverish mind cannot compose something comprehensable...but you can kinda understand it at the end. Whatever, though.

Motionless


Another step would bring her closer. Just another step. Flurries of white surrounded her, twirling and dancing to their imminent doom, carried as far as possible by biting winds. All warmth had left both her and the wintry world. Gnarled branches created the path to her own destination, beckoning her towards. Desperation lingered in every corner of the barren, desolate earth. Ran rampant through her own veins.

The snow continued to fall, and fall. Covering the terrain in a numbing blanket of ice. A limb caught hold of her cloak, pleading with her to go no farther. Begging, calling out her name. But she didn't listen. Hopelessly, lifelessly she trekked on, eyes focused only on the ground. The blindingly white ground. An owl hooted after her, warning her what was to come. Its knowledge and wisdom was ignored, her senses horridly numbed.

The wind wrapped around her, forcing her only coverage from its iciness, her hood, to fall backwards ungraciously. She didn't care. Pale flesh was exposed to unforgiving gusts, as they attempted to shove her back where she came. Tried without victory to make her turn back. Go somewhere where she belonged, where people loved her. They screamed, but for naught; her ears remained deaf to everything. They foretold of imminent doom, and yet still, they didn't hear. And with a few more painfully slow steps, she'd arrive, the black tarn still. Silent. Placid. Just like her.

She crouched besides it, not noticing grotesque branches nearing her, preparing to swallow her whole. She didn't hear the wind begin to pick up. Didn't understand the owl's warnings--telling her to run. She stared, her reflection staring back. Its own hollowed eyes unblinkingly gazing, boring holes into her. Its own visage resting in an accustomed mask of placid coldness.

The forest creaked, and moaned. Tree limbs shrieked, as animals residing in the wintry wasteland called out into the blistering silence. And the forest grew, and grew. Attempting to consume her, to end her suffering. It was restless, calling her name. It had known--once she reached the empty, yet fulfilling lake, she'd regret everything she had lived for. Everything she was destined to complete. It had warned her, whispered into unhearing ears that people did care about her. Did love her. But she couldn't-didn't- want to listen. Her heart ached for what was to happen, and the forest merely waited with growing anticipation.

Without hesitation, the violet-haired girl plunged into the still waters. They churned, complaining. Waves crashed at its shores, taking bits of snow with it. After a few moments of rebelliousness, the lake accepted its new resident with open arms. For a moment, she lived in agony, as cold, stabbing water was inhaled. After just a few seconds, though, she willingly accepted fait…and died. All her sins were unraveled, all the ones she committed and was to commit. All her lies were forgiven. Her mask melted away, allowing unknown emotions to merge with once again undisturbed blackness. Now, inside and out, she was motionless. And numb. Just as she had wanted it.


Yeah. Um, review.