Remember
By: Gwyn
In response to Challenge 12 on the Dancing Dove.
In a place where no sun shone and no birds sang, the girl stood expectantly, blue eyes focused on a black speck just beyond the horizon, gliding on the abnormally calm river. In the dim light that seemed to come from no where and everywhere, the river was a misty grey hue, small waves of white bobbing on its surface. Only one boat ever docked at the river, and she was waiting for it. She had been waiting for years.
Her eyes impatiently scanned the horizon as the small boat came closer. It could hardly be considered a boat from its size- but she had stood here many times, and knew that the craft's size changed according to the number of passengers it held. This time, she knew it held only one passenger.
The boatman, gaunt and pale in his cowled habit, rowed in closer, the prow of the ferry crunching as it hit gravel. The man sitting in the boat sat crouched over in silent meditation, a look she recognized from previous passengers. His features were visible from where she stood several yards away. Not that she had ever truly forgotten his features, in this place where time seemed to have no essence and memories drifted away in sweet blissful peace.
He did not recognize her, she realized sadly as he stepped hesitantly onto the gravelly riverbank. Already he was peering past her, glancing expectantly for the road he would have to follow now that he had come to the end of his long-gone road. His body was taking on the shape that would be of most assets to him now, one that he had loved in his past life; a strong, youthful man is his early twenties stood several yards from her now, precisely as she could remember him. His flamboyant color, stark in the bleak surroundings, was hardly affected by the grey mist around him, though she knew that soon that the fog would give him the same, dull coloring it foisted on everything and everyone here.
His eyes glimpsed a paved road that had slid out of the fog; he began to walk purposefully towards it, as all passengers did.
She had waited too long for this; she walked toward him and tapped his shoulder.
He started, and turned around, a fleeting look of fright passing over his eyes. She knew that the last time she had seen him, a similar look had arisen in her eyes.
Seeing only a beautiful, doleful girl of about eighteen gazing forlornly at him, he smiled wanly. "Have you as well?" he asked bluntly.
Years ago, she had planned this moment carefully. The revenge she had so desperately wanted to wreak had been prepared for, but in the last few years, she had given up on such ideas. What would it achieve, after all? Her present situation would be her situation until the last moment of eternity, and no amount of extracted revenge could change what was now her fate. His fate.
She smiled sadly at him, her large eyes watching him desolately as she nodded. "Yes, I have, Vinson."
The use of his name startled him. "Do I know you?" He was mentally searching, but would he remember? Was his crime so deeply buried in the recesses of his heart, that he couldn't remember her?
"Yes," she repeated. "Yes, I have died, Vinson. Remember? You were the one who killed me.
A.N.: Short, sweet, sad one-shot. sniff Made me so sad, you have no idea.
Gwyn