It has been a week.
She has not slept. She could not eat.
Her legs were like jelly.
Soon it had been a month.
The weight of her initial depression had been lifted, but she was left weak, drowsy, and irritable. Loss does such things to people.
Everyday she would find herself daydreaming about going back in time. Or if only she had not been in her human state at that time. She would have been nocturnal. And he could have been saved. Take me back. Take me back. I'll do it all over again.
She was beginning to believe that nothing could save her from the pain. A poisonous thought crossed her brain. It ended as a simple contemplation, normal, even. She chose not to carry it out. But still, it was not the first time the deadly thought crept into her mind.
The memory played in her head so much and images became crisper and clearer each time, that by now it was as if she was going back in time every time she had to relive it. A cruel joke. She had her wish of being able to go back in time, but she could not change anything within a daydream.
The memory reeled in again.
The first scent which marked her nose was that of blood and musk. The first sight was so gruesome that it would forever be what she would remember him by. Not by his kindness or his smile. But by the gore of that scene.
His body hung a foot from the ground as his neck had been splintered by the bends of a broken tree. His center was cored and gutted. His flesh was relatively fresh, but flies had already settled within it. His mouth was bruised and agape. The lips which she would never kiss again.
She did not think of how it happened then. She only knew it was the workings of a savage beast. She did not think of revenge just then. She did not think. She could not think.
Soon it had been another month.
She finally had the strength to revisit the site. His body was not there anymore, of course. He was buried in the field of flowers which the dead man himself had once gifted to her. But she could not help but come back. Just to stare. How dare these trees be so quiet and unassuming? How dare they not feel the same pain as I do? It happened here, didn't it?
She stared up at the blue sky. How dare these skies be blue, as if the world hadn't just gone down in shambles? Twigs cracked beneath each her step. Much like his neck that one fateful night.
Then in another step, there was no sound. She looked down. It was soft. It did not feel like ground. She knelt down to the soft mound and uncovered her first clue. In her hands, a shredded piece of soft white silk.