Tears were streaming down her face, but she barely noticed them. Her attention was focused on the red and white fan on his back, growing smaller and smaller as he walked away, leaving her forever.
She slumped down onto the ground, hugging herself tightly, the feeling of loneliness enveloping her. Her heart broke into tiny shards, stabbing at her continuously, the pain acting as a comfort to her misery.
No. Her mouth moved, but the words didn't want to come out. Memories of him, with her, overflowed in her mind, torturing her.
"NO…" She dug her nails into her wrist, until blood came out in small drops. Her knuckles were gripped so tightly together, they were white.
And finally, she crumpled down onto the soft grass, exhaustion overwhelming her.
When she woke up, she found herself at home, under her warm blanket. The curtains were open, and the sun's rays shone on her face.
That happiness suddenly washed away, as she remembered that awful event.
"Was it a dream?"
She carefully stepped out of bed, and walked over to her desk. She picked up the photo, and looked at him. The person she loved with all her heart, the person she would do anything for.
As she set the picture down, she realized that her wrist was bandaged.
Oh no…She suddenly turned stiff, and her hand began shaking.
It HAS to be a dream! It HAS to be a DREAM!!
Her hands jerked as she began undoing the bandages, and she couldn't seem to get it off. It slowly unraveled, and five small, bloody marks showed where her nails had dug in to her skin. That was all the answer she needed.
It was not a dream.
And she screamed..