The heavy drops of rain played a soft tattoo of music upon the roof of the
car. It was soothing in its consistency yet at the same time each drop
seemed to add to her headache. Crying always gave her a headache, which
meant that, considering the amount of crying she had been doing lately; she
had one hell of one.
But no matter how hard she tried she couldn't seem to stem the flow of tears running rivulets down her face. For someone with her gifts, she didn't seem to have much control over her emotions. She had tried meditation techniques, but that only succeeded in making her cry harder, as memories of the one who had taught them to her filled her mind. Her loss was still keenly felt, especially at times like these. God she missed her.
She missed the way that she made her feel safe and loved with only the tiniest gesture. The way that no matter how bad she was feeling, Shalimar could make her laugh. She missed the connection she felt whenever they were together. She missed the women she considered a sister.
It was funny, in an ironic sort of way, that the one person who made her feel the best about herself, was the one who, unintentionally, was causing her the most pain. But that couldn't be helped. It wasn't Shalimar's fault that she was so kind hearted that she couldn't turn down someone looking for help.
It wasn't her fault, that she believed them when they sought her out. It wasn't her fault that she was to kind to say no. And it wasn't her fault that she was gone. None of them had seen the knife coming, until it was buried in Shalimar's side. And even then, it had taken several moments before they realised what had happened, several moments in which Shalimar had desperately tried to stop the bleeding.
It wasn't until they saw her slide to the ground that they realised something had gone wrong.
If only they, her, had been paying more attention, this wouldn't have happened. But instead she had been to busy teasing Jesse about his new girlfriend to notice the subtle change in the demeanour of the girl they were supposed to be helping. She blamed herself for the things she could not change.
What if she had listened to the voice in her head that told her, this is to easy. What if she had seen the knife and had been able to cry out a warning. What if..
She knew that she couldn't change the part, but that didn't stop her wishing and lamenting what if.
But no matter how hard she tried she couldn't seem to stem the flow of tears running rivulets down her face. For someone with her gifts, she didn't seem to have much control over her emotions. She had tried meditation techniques, but that only succeeded in making her cry harder, as memories of the one who had taught them to her filled her mind. Her loss was still keenly felt, especially at times like these. God she missed her.
She missed the way that she made her feel safe and loved with only the tiniest gesture. The way that no matter how bad she was feeling, Shalimar could make her laugh. She missed the connection she felt whenever they were together. She missed the women she considered a sister.
It was funny, in an ironic sort of way, that the one person who made her feel the best about herself, was the one who, unintentionally, was causing her the most pain. But that couldn't be helped. It wasn't Shalimar's fault that she was so kind hearted that she couldn't turn down someone looking for help.
It wasn't her fault, that she believed them when they sought her out. It wasn't her fault that she was to kind to say no. And it wasn't her fault that she was gone. None of them had seen the knife coming, until it was buried in Shalimar's side. And even then, it had taken several moments before they realised what had happened, several moments in which Shalimar had desperately tried to stop the bleeding.
It wasn't until they saw her slide to the ground that they realised something had gone wrong.
If only they, her, had been paying more attention, this wouldn't have happened. But instead she had been to busy teasing Jesse about his new girlfriend to notice the subtle change in the demeanour of the girl they were supposed to be helping. She blamed herself for the things she could not change.
What if she had listened to the voice in her head that told her, this is to easy. What if she had seen the knife and had been able to cry out a warning. What if..
She knew that she couldn't change the part, but that didn't stop her wishing and lamenting what if.