I actually wrote this about a month or two ago in school, while we were suppose to be doing a free write, and is now one of my favoites. The song I was humming to myself is Sarah Mclachlan's "Plenty". More SOC will be posted as I write them and deem them appropriate to post.
Her eyes are closed as the water passes over, trickle fall click of drops on the stone, just sitting up on the old stone. Water's cold, only chi-warmed so it's not too pleasant outside the little bubble. She doesn't like to be cold. Reminds her too much of death.
A sigh, standing again, water dripping down green legs, plinking on the floor- even inside the bubble you can hear the storm howling outside like a hissed snarl whisper, slamming it's shoulder into the old black stone, trying to tumble it down to the ground, bury it over and make the whole place as if it's never existed save as a memory of the dead and those who'd rather forget it. But it's silent inside the halls, there's no one to speak or be spoken to, no living things save an empty woman who'd rather just sink back into the warm water and forget this ever happened in the first place. Half expects him to come back down, slip in with her.
Why would he. He's dead.
The wind's cold hammering against the walls- plink, plink. Warm water hitting against the floor as she slumps back into the water, immersing herself and trying to forget. Forget this place, forget him. It'd be better that way.
Plink plink. Water gets cold as it hits the ground- she'd rather keep the water warm then the floor. Soft pleasant warm water brushing over her like hands she remembers too well, like his. Like him.
Wince slightly, body pulling out of the water again and slumping in a crouch, arms curled over head, shudder to the back. Why, why. Why'd this have to come back up again? Plink, plink, howl. Cold wind and warm water and chilled heart. What's she kidding?? This isn't going away. Isn't going away, she's not gonna get over it, sweet gods he was everything, everything she had to care about on this godsforsaken planet and now he's gone, he's dead and there's not even the dignity of a body to bury. And it's not as if he was spared the indignity of the flesh being torn away over time- it happened sooner, and by a monster far worse than any little beetles or worms or maggots ever could dare. There's scars in her mind burned, seared from where she remembers the pain stung her, tore her to emotional ribbons- the soulbond's still burning, still aching, it was only a month ago….
Mont. A month ago, and she's still crying screaming when she wakes up in the middle of the night because she's cold, she's cold and the chill in her bones is a terrifying feeling that won't go away because his body's not there, she can't feel that warm skin on her or his eyes chilling her- as cold as those dead silvers were she's colder still with the barraging wind and this way, it hurts- it stings her eyes and gauges out tears and burns her throat. She still remembers his kisses, the ones he always let her lead because he liked to tease her by being unlike any man she'd ever encountered…..
Harp shudders slightly in the water, form shaking, causing ripples and wavers in the water. Plink plink into the water, salt tears- hand groping out, clutching around something curled in the cloak she'd been wearing- pulsing stone, little bloodstone, lips brushing over it with little kisses, shake of her body, shivering even though the water's warm and the air's warm around her, it's as warm as anywhere but the fire still smoldering pulse pulse in her shattered soulbond. A month. A month. Gods, was the rest of her life going to be like this….. could it get better? No… it can't… it hurts……. Oh gods, why……
A scream rings through the silent black halls, shivering around the stone long after she falls silent, shaking without a word.
2/14/2004, 2:14 PM