Fragments of the Past

He looked at me with such sad eyes. He looked at me with such cold heart. In his mind, there is no doubt; in his mind he will not let me live. Yet he hesitated. He hesitated as if he did care. He slowly raised his hand; I took a sharp breath in, the end. But as my eyes slid close, waiting, nothing came. There was no blow, no pain, nothing. Confused, I withdrew from the darkness, and opened my eyes once more to face him.

He lowered his hand to cup my face. His cold fingers traced my lips.

"W-what?" I gasped, utterly confused by his actions.

He answered in silence to my question and stared at me with intensity. Gently now, he lowered himself onto me. Softly now, he muffled my voice with his lips.

A simple kiss, lips against another, just a small sign of affection, just a moment of bliss; eternal warmth. I closed my eyes for the second time, but it was in acceptance not fear. Time...time was moving; it did not stop, but to me, to us perhaps, time was still. He did not move from his position. He pressed against me...upon the wall, lips still on mine. I wanted more, more than just a simple chaste kiss; more, I wanted more. I grasped his hands, and press myself toward him. That's when the spell ended.

He snapped his eyes open and pushed away. He looked at me with mild surprise.

"Please," I beckoned.

He pulled away.

I don't understand. I don't understand what he wants. My death? My silence? Me? He turned to walk.

"No! Don't!" I cried out. I grabbed his hand. "Don't."

He wretched from my grip. His eyes searched mine.

"Don't," I whispered. "Don't."

A smile...a small smile, he gave me a soft smile.

"Please," I muttered.

He kissed my forehead.

"Destiny," he spoke to me for the first time. "We are destined to meet again."

Taking me into his hands, he hissed into my ears, "I will be your death!"

I gasped.

He pulled away. "Goodbye, angel of mine," And then like the passing wind, he was gone.

I collapsed onto the ground.

"Angel of mine," I repeated to the empty room.

Destiny...destined to meet again, he and I, and my death.

Broken Pieces

I was drowning, drowning in red. I cannot find land and was lost in a sea of darkness. I tried to cry out for help but my voice refused to project. In fact, it refused to work at all. I struggled desperately to see. I ran aimlessly in the dark, hoping to find a light that would guide me to safety. I am alone.

Suddenly I hear a voice, a gentle voice that was carried by the winds. It beckons me to follow. And follow I did.

I walked toward the voice; I walked in the dark for what seems like eternity. The voice is growing louder. I must be near.

"Help!" I cried. "Where are you?"

But the winds did not answer me, and instead it calls out, "Come, come."

I continued to follow.

I reached a hand out. I need to know if there is someone there, someone that the voice belongs to. But I felt nothing.

Desperation filled me, and I cried out again to the voice, "Where? Where are you?"

Still the winds answered, "Come, come, come to me."

I tried to obey, but my legs could no longer move. I have walked for so long. I have walked for so long.

"Please, oh please!" I sobbed.

I fell onto my knees. I cannot walk any farther. I lie on the ground and weep silently. The wind no longer blows; the voice too was gone.

I feel cold, so very cold. To exhausted to fight, I let the darkness engulfed me.