|| Just A Few Words || Written Work Gallery

The rain pelted down against the ground. The sky, a stark black, did nothing to help the darkened street. No sound other than the rain could be heard from that deserted street. Yet, there she was - standing alone, hands on her knees, panting, soaked from head to toe.

She wiped away tears that were almost non-existent, having already camouflaged themselves with the rain. She quickly glanced at the object in her hand and felt her fingers give away as it hit the wet ground with a loud clank. She cringed away from the sound, as if the object had harmed her. Her hand shook as she bent down and picked it up. Her eyes closed shut tightly, hiding away the deep chocolate eyes, haunted by horrors she's seen and experienced.

She pressed the object down into her arm and pulled upwards, wincing quietly as she tore open yet another wound. Blood dripped down her drenched white shirt, staining it. She took a deep breath of relief and finally, smiled.

"And that makes you feel better?"

She gasped, spinning around and came face to face with a pair of dark eyes. Almost instantly, her gaze dropped to his straight, thin pink lips. Unable to speak, she merely nodded. He reached out and brushed his knuckles against her cheek. She sighed, letting out a shaky breath as more tears dripped down.

"I never pegged you as weak. Passive, yes but not weak." She knew better. She didn't feel like or even feel the need to reply to his statement. He grabbed her arm and began to pull her, pull her back to where she had ran away from. But he was right. She was passive. Therefore, there was nothing she was going to do about it. She was going to let it happen because the one thing that gave her the strength to go on was clutched in her hand, tightly, now smeared with her blood.

"You've changed." She whispered, as she always did. And he ignored her, like he always did. Thunder roared above angrily, as if yelling at her to not let it happen this time. To step up and protect herself. Do the right thing but she just couldn't. She wished she could but she couldn't.

"Go on." He muttered when they came to a stop. He motioned towards the door of their house. The streetlights shone above them, and it almost seemed like the darkness had been left behind. But in reality, the darkness was there. It was in that house, now lit up with warm lights that seemed to emit a warm glow but only hurt. She bowed her head to avoid staring at the house that once seemed like a home to her. But not anymore. He nudged her when she didn't move. This time, she responded and took a step forward.

Thunder roared again in response and the rain quickened. It got harder and louder. She felt her shoulders shake as soundless sobs tore through her body. It hurt. It hurt so much. And he watched quietly, emotionless as always. When she heard his footsteps approach her, even with the rain, she took another step forward and kept walking until she had arrived at the doorstep.

He reached from behind her and turned the knob for her. He pushed the door open and the heat hit her face forcefully. Unwanted comfort never did appeal. She had liked the cold, wet rain. It made the pain bearable. The darkness engulfed her, it allowed her to push away everything that hurt to think about. It allowed her to stop pretending when she couldn't see anything. With the light attacking her eyes, compelling her to look, to accept, it was intolerable.

He pressed his firm, cold hand against her frail, shivering back. She stepped inside and heard the door shut behind her. Something inside her broke and her eyes glazed over. She shoved the sharp knife in her pocket and ran a hand over her hair to smooth it. She turned around to face him and smiled at his handsome face. His thin lips responded and smiled back.

"It's good to be back home." She stated. He nodded grabbing her arm and squeezing. And he squeezed until it hurt. Hurt enough to give her another wound but it gave her relief. It made her smile.

(728 words)