A blonde woman in a crowd of people. Her eyes are half shut. Her gaze empty. Hair unwashed. Clothes dirty. Turned backs are all around her, blocking her in. She pushes through. Shoves and tackles until she reaches the front. Hits a barrier. Comes to a stop. There is a line beneath her feet. Yellow ink on gray stones. There is noise in the distance. A low, mechanical growl growing louder by the second.
A moment of clarity. Lids snap open. Drops of sweat, on her back, her forehead. She's afraid. The moment passes. Memories return. Shame. Regret. There is nothing to be done. Her time is now. Delicate legs cross a line. Weight shifts forward. Feet untouch the ground. Her body falls. Into nothing.
A young man on a bike. His grip is shaky. His thoughts race. One foot pins a pedal. Alcohol stains his breath. The machine howls. Not loud enough. Lights cross his vision, drawing sharp trails. The asphalt folds beneath him. Cars approach. Leave. Return. He spins the wheel. Left. Right. At random. Rubber shrieks. Voices shout. It doesn't reach him.
Phrases echo in his mind. Wrathful remnants. Torturing his every moment. He has tried everything. Sleep. Whiskey. Sex. And still they persist. His head tilts forward. Touches plastic. Pupils break from the road. Wheels tilt left. Twenty degrees. Fifty. Gravity claims him. He doesn't resist. So he swerves. Into nothing.
Events that never came to pass. Visions of a future undone, looping endlessly within glass spheres. As if mocking her. The globes were lifted. They crashed violently into the ceiling. The force of the impact shattered their forms. A shower of tiny crystal fragments covered the dark room. Failures. Her failures. But there were others.
A muscular boy beneath a broken street lamp. Breath unsteady. Back to the wall. A shadow looms over him. Eclipses his figure. His legs are shaky. His chest tight. An unfamiliar emotion grabs ahold of him. Crushes his throat. He took pride in his power. In his bravery. Pride has been shaken. Tainted.
He knows he cannot win. He is afraid. His weapon is dropped. Pathetic pleas escape his dry mouth. Incoherently begging for mercy. For her. He falls to his knees. The foe approaches. Untouchable. Superior. Grabs his hair. Forces them face to face. Shrill laughter. Compassionless eyes. A pact is offered. He signs away his soul.
A couple atop a bridge. They don't look at each other. Don't speak. Don't think. Expressionless faces lock onto the horizon. Wish for release. Find none. They were close, once. Had enjoyed each other's company. Fought together. Loved. A long time ago. They are different now. Removed. Strangers.
They want to return. To when they were happy. When there was purpose to their lives. They know they cannot. Intangible walls separate them. Their bond is broken. By insecurity. Fear. A meaningless prison. Desperate tongues search for magic words. Drown in silence. They split. For the last time.
A guilty woman. Watching. Powerlessly. She always does. Unable to speak up. To act. Unwilling. He is weak. He needs her. She forsakes him. He commits a sin. She is just as liable. He forgets. She remembers. Carries the weight. Needs to atone.
A hint of resolve. Power courses through her. She confronts him. With his actions. His transgressions. Disbelief. Fury. She insists. Makes him recall. Vaguely. Still, he denies. Emotions arise. They fight. Hurt each other. Emotionally. Physically. He cannot accept it. She cannot let it go. Zealous rage pushes her further. Guilt. Anger explodes. The world is stained by their sin.
Events she had materialized. Futures yet to come. She kept them all. For guidance. As trophies. Hundreds of these glass spheres lined the walls. Each displaying a vision. She could see but a glimpse. Fragments of an outcome. It was enough.
This world would know her pain. How much she had suffered. They would feel it all. And in that moment, when they truly understood despair, they would belong to her.