Along a winding corridor and behind a tapestry of gold, a whirling black mist hovered above the hard wood floor stroking the ankles of a teenage girl. She was frightened, but her curiosity got the better of her and she found herself moving closer and closer to the end of the hall toward the dark, damp door.
When she reached it, she winced as the unexpected cold handle brought goose bumps to her arms. Slowly she pushed the door open. In the corner of the room, a man stood with his back to her, but it didn't make sense. He was dead. She was petrified, standing there, taking him in. She took one steady step closer and then another until she was directly behind him. She looked up at the back of his head. His hair had grown and stuck up in all directions. She hesitantly placed her hand on his shoulder. His muscles tensed, but he did not move. He slowly drew in a deep breath and glanced at her hand before covering it with his own. The temperature of the air seemed to increase phenomenally and sparks were flying everywhere. His gaze turned from her hand and slowly over his shoulder into her eyes. His eyes showed content and longing and she knew that hers showed the same. The rest of his body followed the same path without breaking eye contact. The tension grew until neither could take it and she jumped into the air… and hit the ground next to her bed hard.
She didn't bother on getting up, but concentrated on keeping her eyes closed so as to keep the image of him even as it slowly slipped away. The tears began their endless tirade onto her floor as it had the night before and the night before that. He was gone and would never come back to fill the vacancy left by her empty arms and heart, the heart that was no longer hers and yet was pumping the blood through her veins. Her tears became dry and the cold, wet floor was pressed against her swollen face. She didn't have the strength to move and fell into a restless sleep with the knowledge that the love of her life would never brighten her doorway again.
