Never More Beautiful
Chapter 1 Leaving
She dies and while most faces fade hers gets ever more beautiful. Sometimes I can still feel her presence; her dark eyes, her soft touch, her warm scent but the worst of all and perhaps the best her voice whispering soft phrases, singing melodic songs and occasionally screaming in anger and frustration. Of all the things I miss I miss her voice the most. People remind me of her sometimes, but no-one is her, no-one quite reaches her. But I ramble on I must try to stay true to the point of this entry. My time for this world is coming to a close and I do not know if I shall be able to take this book on with me. I am not dying I realise it may sound that way but no. I am leaving. I become weary of this world and the memories that accompany it. I may not have her talent with the supernatural I still have some talent and perhaps enough to take me and some choice belongings somewhere else. In my new world I will forget, although I'm not entirely sure I want to.
"Hello?" The hooded woman turns briefly around but then hurries in the opposite direction. Glinda was sure however that she saw a flash of green. Glinda saw such things often, flashes of green and such. It was easy to pick out colours in the barren landscape and Glinda's bright hair and clothes stood out against the black buildings and clothes. She convinced herself she was imagining it and carried on with her new life. Despite her reassurances a nagging thought kept on saying but what if.
"She's here."
"What but how?"
"I don't know we must be cautious."
An unfamiliar bed an unfamiliar room an unfamiliar world. I've been here almost a week and I see her everyday. I cam here to forget but her face haunts me. I dream about her all night and during the day I think everyone could be her. I came here to forget but something is holding me back. I keep repeating over ad over she's dead she's gone but my heart isn't listening. It seems coming here has made the memories worse not better. At night I toss and I turn I can never sleep. When I do she's all I dream about and I awaken randomly during the night her name falling from my lips. My face has taken on a gaunt haunted appearance and people avoid me even more. I don't belong here my bright colours stand out against the black of everywhere. If I could return I would but without sleep I don't have the strength. Maybe I am doomed, doomed to live a half life spent missing her until finally death takes my pain away. But I won't just waste away, that's not me. I will try my hardest to be normal to fit it. I'll buy new clothes I'll take sleeping pills. But I won't die my hair I will have to be the one blonde citizen against all the brunettes.
"Please…" Glinda called out desperately but the man hurried away and her sentence trailed into nothing. She was trying so hard to fit in but she needed people to help her and no-one would talk to the weird blonde girl. She slid down the wall of the grey building she lent against and hugged her knees. People sped past her no-one coming closer than a metre creating a bubble of unhappiness around her. Tears filled her eyes but she held them back unwilling to show weakness. Finally she stood up and headed home to the cold dank house she squatted in. Her home didn't have much in it just a bed a wardrobe full of clothes a small notebook and the grimmerie. She headed straight over to the bed where the grimmerie lay open. She flipped through the yellowing pages hoping to be able to understand some of the strange writing. But she saw nothing. Just foreign symbols that only one person had ever understood. She slammed the book shut with a scream of frustration. Pushing the heavy grimmerie onto the floor she curled up into the foetal position another wave of emotions overwhelming her.
"I want to see her."
"But you can't."
"I have to, I need to."
I heard her today. I heard her singing. The most beautiful sound I had ever heard returned to me and not just in a dream. It was real she was singing and I could hear her. I feel so elated she's alive she didn't die something happened and she lived. I know many people who read this will think I am mistaken or delusional. I myself believed that after thinking I saw her but I would never mistake her voice. While all other sense will be deceived no-one could ever reconstruct or even hope to match her voice. Now I know she's alive I must find her and talk to her. Hear that beautiful voice again.
A slow song wavered out from a nearby church. The sound seemed to wrap itself around Glinda as she recognised the sweet sound. This being the second time she had heard the voice she stood for a moment to just listen. But while it felt like only a second almost an hour passed and the voice stopped. Trepidation filled Glinda she had been too caught up with the sound and may now have missed her chance at finding her. She hastened towards the point that the sound had originated from but saw no-one. She burst into the church seeking the source but it was deserted. Not a sign of anyone having been there in days. Once again Glinda was left with a feeling of disappointment and grief.
"You've seen her now we must leave."
"But I want to talk to her, contact her."
"But why? You're jeopardising everything."
"I-I love her."