Beauty in the Breakdown
By sweet like chocolate
Disclaimer: Don't own them :)
Rating: G
Summary: This was originally part of another fic, much shorter, and about Maria. I don't mention a name but I can't help thinking that now I've extended it, it sort of works like a one-shot about Isabel. And I sort of like it so I decided to post it as just that.
Enjoy- reviews are always welcome
It was sunny.
It was odd that the only thing she could think about was how in movies and books, it was always raining at times like these. The rain would represent the pain and sorrow felt by everyone, a dark cloud overhanging them all. It was never sunny- that would be too happy, too light. It would ruin the image they sought to create.
It was sunny now though.
She thought he would like it. He always wanted to be original; different from the crowds. She guessed he got his wish after all. Nothing could be more different than this.
She could imagine him standing there beside her, laughing at her sad expression. 'Why be sad?' he would say. 'I'm the one who's dead, not you.' She wanted to yell at him. No, she wanted to scream at him. She wanted to kick him and hit him and hurt him until he admitted he was there, that he had not really left at all, that it had been some cruel joke he had played to make her realise how much she needed him in the end. That was just the sort of thing he would do- a belated April Fools that no one would admit to being funny until years later, when suddenly the genius of the situation came out. It had worked. She did need him.
She wondered what it was like where he was. Was it happy? Peaceful? Beautiful? She imagined him telling jokes with the angels- smiling as they cracked up around him, wings tangled in the clouds. A small grin graced a previously empty face. Only he could make her smile properly, even if it was only the thought of him now.
She was the only one here. Again. It was one day and yet it was always only her that came, her that remembered. Parents were different. They would come later and they would shed tears, but in the end had they really known anything at all?
The letters were worn now, the grass untidy, and she pictured him chastising them all for keeping such bad care of his place, even though he enjoyed mess, found it refreshing. Now she was yelling at him once more, telling him it was his fault, and if he hadn't left, there would be no single place to clean, no flowers to buy, no reason for silence, and just maybe everything in the world would be straight again, even if it was only for a minute.
And then for a moment, he was there. He was there to share her burdens, to make her laugh, to make her cry. He was there and he was smiling and laughing and telling her it would all be all right in the end. He was holding her tight and gradually she could let the tears fall, because he could catch them, and he was right, it could all be all right in the end.
But then it was over, and she was standing alone in the sunshine, flowers hanging limply in her hand and her eyes were burning from the need to release what she kept locked up inside. But in the end there was no one to catch her tears, and she thought that maybe, just maybe, that was the saddest thing of all.