Silver Waters

The room is dark, the shadows closing in around the glow of the firelight. The light encases her in its mockingly warm embrace as she raises the sharpened device in her hand. The blade gleams in the flickering light, reflecting her tearful, hazel-tinged gaze. She tightens her grip around the smooth ebony handle, until her knuckles are the colour of snow. She wants her crimson blood to flow deep into the carpet, to tell everyone how broken she is. She turns and looks out the open window, where a night breeze is being beckoned inside. Her hair flutters as the air is disturbed by the cooling wind and the stars bring back memories she never wants brought to the surface again.

She saw them, holding each other, whispering secret words of endearment in each others' ears. She was crouched behind a tall shrub, the gnarled fingers reaching up toward the sky that blanketed half of the world in darkness. The lake was beautiful that night, the reflection of the bright moon rippling silently on midnight waters. The crescent hung serenely in the sky, shedding light on some objects and casting others into impenetrable shadow.

His hair matched the moon, glowing almost silver, blinding white. How she hated him then, would hate him forever. The other, the one she had always loved, his hair blended with satin of the night sky, his eyes mirrored the winking stars. She loved him, would always love him, and knew that love would claim her life.

'That is why I must punish him' she thinks as she stares into the fire, the flames flowering into pink and orange petals. She closes her eyes and let her tears fall, some clinging to her lashes, others sliding mournfully down her cheeks. They splash onto the floor, memories of her anguish.

Without even whispering good-bye to the breezy night, she plunges the cruel spike into her broken heart, letting her blood flow freely. Like she wanted, her blood ran deep and true into the carpet as she slumps, her last word escaping on an exhaled sigh.

"Free."

Her farewell note, written what seems like so long ago, shifts and a strong gust of wind sweeps it from its place next to her lifeless hand. It floats lazily through the air for a short time before finally taking its home in the flames. The parchment curls, blackens, the words fading like her life had, to become nothing but ashes.

My broken heart has bled, and I am set free from my anguish. Good-bye.

-G.

No one will ever know, or understand, why her blood will forever brand the floor of the common room. The surface will clean, but the essence will never fade. She knew this, and, because of it, everyone will suffer from unanswered questions. Forever.