A/N: this is my very first fic so please review and tell me if its any good, thank you.
Wars are fought to see who owns the land, but in the end it possesses man. Who dares say he owns it --- is he not buried beneath it?
Silence And Stillness.
Shivering, she looks up at the vast expanse of nothingness above. It's mysterious and alluring element engulfing her like an enigma. The midnight sky twinkling in the night blanketing the gentleness of the shimmering lake, on days like this. Mountains adorned with snow covered pine trees, which sway in rhythm to the enchanting wind. She's reminded of notes from musical masterpieces colliding together to create perfect harmony. A beautiful, spell-binding, breathtaking scene ....
The moon peeking out from the white frozen clouds, seemingly bored from its constant shroud, sheds silver luminescence. Its iridescent rays casting a heavenly spell over the still water. Her face illuminated from its reflected moonlight, tracing every line of her premature signs of aging. Ashes mingling with dust, tracing the trail of a lingering breeze, wandering around in helplessness. Pulling herself up, she leaves the tranquility of this undisturbed stillness with one last look, leaving behind a single tear onto the dried flower fallen to the ground.
The wind blows harder as she leaves. Leaves rustling underfoot, barely audible as she quickens her pace. The moon's radiance casting a halo of peace in this long forgotten sanctuary of the dead. A single note, crumpled and yellowing remains with a tell-tale tear stain.
Silence And Stillness.
She had always loved the moon; it allowed a serenity she rarely found within herself -lately. She rarely even remembered feeling
'Blinding, crippling hatred was flowing through her veins, a hate so strong that she stood there on the podium, shaking, writhing in pain.'
Never had the brilliant gaze of the sun ever looked so bleak. Never had the silence ever felt so hostile. The days and nights fused together and broke apart all at once; she could not distinguish when the night faded away and the day rose. As though suddenly coming to her senses she tore her gaze away from the accursed moon, rolling over to her side, she resolutely closed her eyes. Tonight sleep would come.
'The screams were deafening around her, blood was tainting the white walls like poison. Her consciousness was slowly slipping away leaving her lying in a pool of her own blood and a distant resonant screaming that she discovered as her own.'
Tonight the sky was darker, much like her heart. The moon was still playing hide-n-seek behind the thundering clouds. It was in stark contrast from the peaceful serenity that she had observed just days ago. Yet, she reclined against that old oak tree and looked out at the fierceness of the lake. Blackness was surrounding the mountain, it held onto its mysterious aura emanating darkness, dangerousness; all this made it look all the more enticing. This was her haven, her escape, her sanity. She took another ragged breath, tears freely falling like dew drops in the early mornings. There resided emptiness within her now, growing with each agonizing moment. Somewhere between her sadness and emptiness she noticed fresh tears snaking down her cheeks like a tribute to the rain. She let out a bitter, remorseful laugh.
'Those eyes had always broken her; she could never look at them without being consumed by them entirely. Tonight they spoke something unaccustomed to her; she was falling into their depths, spiralling out of control'
Maybe this was her penance, a constant reminder of the terror that had passed. A grievance and reverence that she guarded close to her heart, hidden under layers of false facades. She had always been true and honest, like an epitome of goodness.
He had always been dangerous, like a slithering snake lying in the grass waiting for its attack. Theirs had been the stormiest passion of minds, seeking redemption.
The residue of a tumultuous relationship amidst war left with nothing but a broken shell of her old self surrounded by death. And it was her punishment of reliving her past over and over again till it broke her.
To all of the dead flowers and rotting graves she haltingly started her story, her life of broken truths and shadowed love. She wanted her surrounding to remember this legend, for that is what it was, a legend which was rarely told in fear of facing ones own daemons within. She was planning on letting those daemons go and seep into this place so that this story, her story would never be forgotten ...