Without You

Disclaimed

-JAMES POV-

You would think it would get easier, as time goes. But it never does, it gets harder, until you can't see strait, you don't know what's dream and what's reality. You cry yourself to sleep, and you wake up, thinking it's a horrible nightmare, and your hand, all on its own, reaches for her warm spot in the bed, next to you. But its all cold, and you realize it wasn't a dream.

And then you cry again.

You begin to dread the night, and long for the nightmares; 'cause she will be there, waiting for you, all pixie smiles and flashing green eyes, and angry red hair. And you reach out, to touch her porcelain skin, and she dissolves like mist in the morning sun, leaving you howling at the pure agony she leaves behind.

You drink, until there is no more to swallow, but her face still lingers behind you're aching eyelids.

You leave the house, for the first time in months, and go to the mall. You hear sounds that you never thought to hear again, the sound of people laughing.

You hear a tinkling laugh, and you look around, and there it is; a splash of read hair on a petite body. You chase her, wanting, needing to catch her. Tears begin to run down your face, until you cant see. And you can't see past the photograph of her, laughing and peering through her fingers at the camera.

When you get to the house you stay in, no longer home, she was home. You find the kitchen, and you cry again, remembering spilled milk on tile.

Your eye is caught on a flash of silver, a razor knife, in the sink. You walk toward it, hypnotize.

You pick it up. Unable to help yourself, it would be so easy.

You drop the knife and run outside. You take a stick from the ground, a regular stick. You return to the razor and viciously sharpen the stake, laughing at what you are doing.

You take the sharp edge to your throat, and slash, savoring the pain, knowing it will bring you closer to her.

'I'm coming Poppet,' you think and you slash again.

And then you think of…

Nothing…

At….

All…