You live your life day by day, you watch visions and dreams come…fade. Those around you change…grow, and like most, you wonder what it all means. And, with every breath of air taken, a breath of air is stolen from the innocent. In the end, we are all damned, but some never see reality. Pain and suffering, sorrow, fear. Elements of life that are blinded by love, happiness…
After the darkness,
There comes a blinding light
But the light is only death
The moon its heart-broken guide
Through a void we call life
Better off cast aside
And here I stand at the end
Wondering if there is a point…
She watches him from the desk, her chin rested gently upon the tops of her hands. Her eyes seem to glow as the white rings around her black contacts reflect. He glances up occasionally from his relaxed position on the bed, scribbling down fragmentary sentences and emotions. He spills his thoughts onto the white page.
"You seem restless." Her voice floats across the dimly lit room, echoing off to some unknown dark destination.
"Restless…not really." He motions with a finger for her to come closer after shutting the leather bound journal. Before she reaches him, he changes his bodily gesture, leans his head against the headboard, and smiles. She comes closer, her arms loosely at her sides, eyes and head lowered in a stare. "Raven…" He moves a strand of hair from her face as she leans forward and onto the bed. Extending his hand with his black painted nails, she takes it into her own willingly. She sits on his lap, and as he presses his head to her chest, her heart beat numbs his thoughts. Raven runs her fingertips down the back of his neck. His cold hands find rest on her lower back.
"Can we go tonight?" She puts her arms around his neck and kisses his forehead between his eyes, causing him to shut them in a slow blink. A picture of the two falls to the ground, silently blown by the wind, but neither notice.
"Do you really want to?" He slides a few fingers across her face, admiring her pierced brow that matches his own. Sexual tension fades to hopeless romanticism.
"Yes." She answers quietly in a breathy voice as he slides a hand up the back of her cut black shirt. Standing somewhat gracefully, she grabs a long black hooded sweater from a beat up chair, and as she slips it on, a bit of her mid-drift shows. He watches her quiet movements before gathering a few candles and his leather jacket.
They walk hand in hand down the dirty, now empty street. Just noises of cars and everyday existence, but none and no one in sight. The moon isn't present, but the stars are shinning brightly enough to make up for it. The air is crisp and cool, but it doesn't bother them at all. Approaching the place where the dead lay, she smiles while pulling her hair back, her age non-existent as she laughs like a young child. In all her nineteen years, she has never been happier. Something tells her that everything will be all right.
The leaves, stiff and fragile, crumble beneath their feet, as they slowly walk to their favorite spot.
Beneath a large, white marble angel with green eyes that stay burned in their minds, is where they'd spent their time, spoke true love, and made a deep bond. That angel had watched over them as they had made love silently, many a night where a tree hanging overhead cast shadows on their nude bodies. He spreads the blanket, and playfully pulls her down, her back against his chest.
She lights the candles, and the small flames flicker, as they grow and decrease in size.
"James…" Her voice is serious, almost concerned in tone.
"Yes baby?" He kisses the top of her head.
"I love you." The sound of approaching footsteps is ignored, and the headlights not seen through the trees and head stones that act like filters, blocking illumination.
He rises, and on one knee, kneels in front of her.
"I know this is kind of strange…we aren't really one with tradition…" They both laugh as she blushes, realization coming fourth. More leaves under foot rustle, but neither Raven nor James are the cause. "And I guess I don't have to ask because out souls are already locked…" She stands, and he takes her hand again. Whispers come and go in the night. For a while, they simply look into each other's eyes.
She watches men running towards her from either side. No time to react, her panic is delayed as her lover, James, is pushed aside and down to the cold wet ground. A freezing pain shoots through her abdomen and to the ends of her body as steel pierces her flesh deeply. Her eye sigh blurs. The two men…maybe more…are gone as quickly as they appear without reason for action or concern. Her blood splashes across the angels garments as she slides down to the ground, her head spinning. He crawls, disorientated, only to see her wound spilling blood onto the light colored blanket. With the last of her strength, she lifts her shirt and laughs, her voice strained.
"I think I'll be alright, you think so?" He shakes his head in both answer to her question, and his own of the same point, mesmerized by the crimson that stains her skin. She touches the long deep gash with her fingertips and gasps. The tears begin to fall from his eyes knowing that even if he tries, he can do nothing to save her. She's lost too much blood. Nothing will save her now. Her body begins to tremble violently as she reaches to touch his face. In her weakness, her hand slides down across his chest to the ground again. Her blood has stained his cheek. "Don't cry…" Her breathing begins to grow shallow as he leans over her paling body to kiss her lips which are rapidly loosing their hue. He brings her into his arms and begins to sob uncontrollably, as with the last fallen tear from her eyes, she slips away. A deep regret settles over him.
"I love you…" A regret for never letting her hear those words before her innocence was stolen. Not letting her go, he wipes his eyes, and with tears and blood dripping from his fingertips, he puts out each burning candle. Holding her closely, he leaves the place of forgotten spirits…
I watch him as he sits, one year to the day now, again like so many times before. He comes here every night, and re-lives the hell sent down upon us both. The Halloween decor up, and the candles at his side, he sits, not at my grave, but beneath the angel. He is quiet, staring at the ring on his finger, never removed since that night. He doesn't know that I am here, in the shadows atop a tombstone, one knee pulled up to my chest. He doesn't cry, for he can cry no more, and he tries to be strong because on that night, I'd asked him not to. For the first few weeks, he did so, but everyday at sunset, he looses himself in depression and tears. He sings me our song… "For a minute there…I lost myself, I lost myself…" He is all apologies, but there is nothing to be sorry for. I kiss his cheek, and with speed, continue to walk through the darkness. I no longer have a soul. He whispers my name. I will right this wrong…
To be blinded by love, is not wrong. Love is death. I know death…and I will soon know revenge. I've seen both sides, both heaven and hell, the hell here on earth. This is the playground of the angels and devils…and now, this is my playground…..