I came up with this while listening to Krwlng by Linkin Park on repeat. Its just a one-shot, not exactly clear unless you listen to the song. Then again, maybe it is.
Sitting here, I am alone.
The sky turns darker and darker as I stare at the grass, swaying ever so slightly in the breeze.
My mind was in turmoil, but on the outside I showed nothing.
The sadness, the rage, the pain, they all flew underneath the surface, consuming me in my emotions. And yet, I still did not stir.
Outside of this place, the world moved on. But inside my bubble, nothing moved. Nothing stirred, for fear of breaking this tense silence that had been present here for such a long time.
A drop of water landed on one blade of grass, and with my heightened eyesight I could see my reflection. My pale skin, my topaz eyes, my red lips.
My world was different now, and the pain of what had happened would always be there. It was unavoidable.
I heard a slight noise off to the right, but I did not move from my position. I reached out with my senses, shocked at what I found.
And yet I did not stir.
The footsteps came closer, gently crunching through the frost that had settled on the grass around me. My nonexistent body heat did nothing to detour the cold. Instead, it egged it on, calling it in.
He sunk down into the grass, not making a sound. I stared straight ahead, through him.
"Bella," he muttered, but I did not respond. The pain that I had held at bay so easily a few weeks before was now completely unmanageable. It was too late.
"Bella, please." He was begging me. But I was too far gone to come back.
Slowly, I opened my mouth and spoke. "It's too late," I whispered, finally turning to look at him. The pain in his eyes was at a staggering depth, but it was still leagues away from the levels I was feeling.
I smiled slightly at him, reaching out to stroke the dark shadows below his eyes. He closed them, pressing his face into my hand and gripping it there.
"Don't you be afraid," I said, "for I am not."
