A/N: By the way if any of the titles from hereon are wrong please let me know, I'm no Revo who can handle five languages without causing an explosion in my central nervous system.
Der zweite Zyklus
It was beautiful. It was perfect. It was impossible.
It was hated.
It was a castle of coral, a truly perfect creation of soft azure and blazing red and tentative pink. It stood solid in the cold sea, not at all wavering, unlike the transient, snuffed-out existences that resided within its walls.
Unlike the woman who knelt outside, her hair tossed by the waves, giving her the appearance of someone wild.
Or perhaps someone in despair, for her hands clutched each other over her chest, and her voice sang wordless bubbles in the deep sea. Her eyes were shut, but her expression was that of one weeping, crying tears that dissolved invisible into the water.
Even if you were to grow discomfited watching her life bubble out of her open (screaming) mouth from far away, you would soon come to realise she cannot die. That her lungs would never fill with water, her heart would never cease to beat. That she would forever be lamenting outside the castle of coral, never allowed inside.
The moment her eyes open is the moment she admits defeat.
-And for the second time, "he" is out of "her" reach.
In a dingy attic far removed from the cold sea, a girl jerks awake drenched in sweat. She's been half-dreaming of the castle again, but the mother… who is the mother waiting for tonight? Her face is far less lined and weary than she remembers from other dreams. Odd, but not unwelcome. Although now that she's awake, it'll be a long time before sleep approaches again.
A/N: Part 2 of 7.