Downpour
Time: 11:41 p.m.
Location: Balamb Garden [Entrance]
Date: December 4, 2000
I've been sitting out here for what seems like forever. The air is cold, and it's beginning to burn through my clothing. It's almost like the air that was able to set us free in my dream. Sitting on this cold bench, I let the remains of the snow hit me. I deserve it. Thoughts of Quistis falling backwards off of everything she cared for keeps replaying in my mind. Her head turning to the side quickly, as my hand engulfed her face. The look she gave me, while she sat huddled up in the tub was heart wrenching. How she backed away from me, as if the short walls could protect her. I want to return to the room. Apologize, and tell her I'd never do that again. How do you take back something like that?
Time: 12:00 a.m.
Location: My Dorm Room
Date: December 4, 2000
The frigid air finally got the best of me, and I was forced to return back to my room. It was chilly inside…I figured it was just the heater giving up on us. Quistis was asleep. I tried to ignore how heavy my eyelids were getting. I couldn't sleep. I doubt she wanted me next to her anyway. Instead, I found an old journal resting on the ground beside her. It was halfway falling apart, and the contents were dying to be read. Hoping it would pacify my weariness, I thumbed through the pages, and stopped on her most recent entry.
December 4
I should've hid them in a better spot. He found them easily, very easily. I'm afraid to talk to him. I'm afraid he'd miss me too much if I left one day. Maybe things would be better for him, if he remembered me as the empty, broken girl who never spoke to him. Sometimes, I could've sworn that everything was perfect. Nothing could tear us apart. Other days, I can't wait to die. The cure doesn't exist. What Seifer and me used to have, doesn't exist. I don't even exist anymore. I don't know what to do. I want to talk to him. He doesn't know that I'm falling apart, each time he looks at me, and waits for me to speak to him. It seems the lullabies I used to sing to him, only keep him awake. My silence, my body, the scent of my hair is driving him away.
He hurt me. I deserved it. Did he finally realize that I'm not as beautiful as he thought I was? My face hurts. I want him to comfort me, but I'm scared to let him touch me.
Life is confusing. No one wants what's left of me. Scattered remains of a doll. I'm only doll parts.
Please God…don't let it hurt anymore.
Time: 12:08 a.m.
Location: Swimming in self-pity
Date: December 4, 2000
I move next to her, and put my arms around her. She flinches, and sits up quickly. Staring at me, I could see the red mark from my hand, stitched imperfectly on her cheek. I stroke her disheveled hair. Her eyebrows crinkle, and she sobs uncontrollably in my chest. We don't have anything to say to eachother. I want to say that I'm sorry, but what's the right way to say it? Instead, I pull the sunny colored blanket around her bare shoulders, and move towards her. Resting my face past hers. I can't look at what I've done. She looks different. The huge picture of a desert landscape hangs beside my bed. I can see her reflection in it. Falling apart, like a little girl.
Thinking of all the good things she's done for me, I feel like jumping off of the world. She didn't deserve this. My eyes shift around the room, I need to focus on something else. Concentrating on the open dictionary left on my desk, I see she's been working on grading her schoolwork.
She used to be so perfect, and I managed to damage that.
I try to drown out her whimpers, and the feeling of her tears warming my shoulders. Absurdly, I imagine that she was looking up the definition to "heartless". I know exactly what it'd say.
Heart·less (härtls) adj.
1) Devoid of compassion or feeling; pitiless.
2) Devoid of courage or enthusiasm; spiritless
3) Seifer Almasy