For Whom the Bell Tolls
The girl shrugged a little, brushing a rose petal from her cheek. There were so many of those this time of year. They were always here, but they were so frequent at this time of year...she shook her head, closing her eyes for amoment as her head pounded. The bells were ringing again. Why were they ringing? She killed him a long time ago. She killed him, so he couldn't possibly be laughing at her. Watching her as she left the courtyard. She shok her head again, more violently. A long time ago. That place was never real, anyway. She pulled rose petals from her hair absentmindedly. The voices were here, too, whispering to her, and laughing. Ever laughing. Even the shadows laughed at her. But shadows couldn't laugh.
Why wouldn't the bells stop? That had been so long ago....when the bells had tolled for her. Victory. She had been crying. Why was she crying? Shouldn't she celebrate? Hadn't she won? She shivered a little, wrapping her arms about herself. She was free. Free, she repeated, as the voices laughed. They were always laughing! Why would they laugh? She'd freed them all....who? She couldn't remember anymore.
She walked listlessly, strenuosly, as if climbing never-ending stairs. Stairs that spiraled on and on and on....and the petals kept blowing. Blood red. Thats funny. Weren't they white before? She never could figure out why they were red.
Didn't matter anyway. The bells would stop soon, she was sure of it. They had to stop, eventually.
Didn't they?
Laughing. They were back, the shadows. They slipped in and out of her vision, cavorting amid the rose petals. Dancing to the mad ringing of the bells. She had been watching them forever. For such a long time. She felt as if she must have always been there, watching them, listening to the bells, climbing.
Tears slipped down her cheeks unoticed, as she shook her arms, rose petals falling from the sleeves, like she was bleeding petals. It was beautiful, their dance. Their laughter was hateful, though. Almost sad, as if warning her of something. Of what? There were no dangers here, no distractions. Only the bells and the petals and the stairs. And him, of course.
But he was dead.
Wasn't he?
The shadows weren't dancing anymore. They were putting on a play. It was about a young princess, full of strength and nobility. It was beautiful, in a meloncholy way.
She didn't know why she was crying.
And the bells kept ringing, ringing in the petals, in time with the laughter. And she cried.
The girl shrugged a little, brushing a rose petal from her cheek. There were so many of those this time of year. They were always here, but they were so frequent at this time of year...she shook her head, closing her eyes for amoment as her head pounded. The bells were ringing again. Why were they ringing? She killed him a long time ago. She killed him, so he couldn't possibly be laughing at her. Watching her as she left the courtyard. She shok her head again, more violently. A long time ago. That place was never real, anyway. She pulled rose petals from her hair absentmindedly. The voices were here, too, whispering to her, and laughing. Ever laughing. Even the shadows laughed at her. But shadows couldn't laugh.
Why wouldn't the bells stop? That had been so long ago....when the bells had tolled for her. Victory. She had been crying. Why was she crying? Shouldn't she celebrate? Hadn't she won? She shivered a little, wrapping her arms about herself. She was free. Free, she repeated, as the voices laughed. They were always laughing! Why would they laugh? She'd freed them all....who? She couldn't remember anymore.
She walked listlessly, strenuosly, as if climbing never-ending stairs. Stairs that spiraled on and on and on....and the petals kept blowing. Blood red. Thats funny. Weren't they white before? She never could figure out why they were red.
Didn't matter anyway. The bells would stop soon, she was sure of it. They had to stop, eventually.
Didn't they?
Laughing. They were back, the shadows. They slipped in and out of her vision, cavorting amid the rose petals. Dancing to the mad ringing of the bells. She had been watching them forever. For such a long time. She felt as if she must have always been there, watching them, listening to the bells, climbing.
Tears slipped down her cheeks unoticed, as she shook her arms, rose petals falling from the sleeves, like she was bleeding petals. It was beautiful, their dance. Their laughter was hateful, though. Almost sad, as if warning her of something. Of what? There were no dangers here, no distractions. Only the bells and the petals and the stairs. And him, of course.
But he was dead.
Wasn't he?
The shadows weren't dancing anymore. They were putting on a play. It was about a young princess, full of strength and nobility. It was beautiful, in a meloncholy way.
She didn't know why she was crying.
And the bells kept ringing, ringing in the petals, in time with the laughter. And she cried.