thestruggle
A Little Sparrow
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- May 30, 2011
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I remember that one. I really wanted to see where it was going.
Tigress' Notebook
- Thread starter IvoryTigress
- Start date
IvoryTigress
Literotica Guru
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Yeah....makes me sad that she's not writing much anymore....
IvoryTigress
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Jan 14, 2013
- Posts
- 3,396
Another RP that seems to have been discontinued. But I really like the concept and the character...so, she will have to stay here for now....
Thunder rumbled through the black sky. Occasionally, there was a subtle flash of the light that should always follow thunder, but it was quickly swallowed by the unnatural dark. Rain poured from thick clouds, saturating the earth with mud. The plant life had perished when the darkness came. With no sunlight to feed it, the vegetation slowly starved. First, there had been panic. People were disappearing in the dark in large numbers and resources, including oxygen to breathe, became scarce quickly. Military mobilization had followed in an attempt to quell the panic and fight an enemy they couldn't see, despite advancements in their technology. They failed. Society crumbled until all that was remained was survival. What humans and animals were left huddled in the ruins of civilization, terrified of the dark.
Rain poured through a gaping hole in the brick wall that had once been a window. The glass and frame had been destroyed long ago. Water dripped down to the decaying wooden floor. Garbage littered the room, piled high in corners and strewn across the floor. A stained, bare mattress rested against the wall. A man's lifeless corpse lay motionless upon it, his pants down around his ankles. Blood from the fresh, jagged wound encircling his neck seeped slowly into the grungy mattress. Firelight flickered in the make-shift hearth, which was nothing more than a hole in the wall that didn’t quite make it all the way through the wall. The shadows danced with the chilly breeze that sailed casually through the window. The room smelled of moldy trash, sex, and death.
Kathleen Moore sat in a dark corner, just beyond the light’s reach. Unlike so many others, she didn’t fear the dark. She understood it. She existed in it. Her knees were drawn to her chest to ward off the chill, her thin thighs as bare as the dead man's five feet from her. One of her boots was on the other side of the room, buried beneath a pile of garbage. The other was the only thing keeping her black cargo pants around her ankle. Her leather jacket was unzipped. The plain white tee shirt bunched above her breasts was saturated with blood that dripped down her flat stomach in agonizingly slow trails. Blonde locks spilled around her shoulders in messy strands, having been torn from the tie that bound them hours ago. One arm rested across her knees, a joint dangling precariously from her fingertips. She tapped a bit of ash off the end before bringing it to her lips to take a long, slow hit.
She held the smoke in her lungs, letting the drug seep into her bloodstream as her crystal blue eyes dropped down to the bloody length of barbed wire resting beside her crimson streaked hand. She exhaled slowly, mixing the room's foul stench with the potent aroma of pot.
Ten minutes ago, he had been moving above her, grunting as he pounded almost sickly thin frame into the moldy mattress. Her face and throat were bruised from his heavy hand. He was close to his climax and appropriately distracted. She had slipped the wire from inside the sleeve of her jacket. In one smooth, clean movement, her ankles had locked around his waist and the wire found its way around his neck. She had yanked, ripped, and squeezed with impossible strength, tearing the flesh across his neck wide open. His eyes had bulged with surprise. He fought her, but despite having a foot of height and eighty pounds on her, he couldn't escape. She had gifts he did not. His death was so much slower than most imagined. Victims of a slit throats and strangulation didn't die within seconds. It took very long, very slow minutes for his fists to stop slamming into her body, for his heart to finally stop beating. Kate's eyes had been locked with his for each and every one. She watched as the light within him faded, all for the simple contents of his pockets.
His jacked rested opposite the wire at her side, its contents neatly displayed on top. An old silver tin that housed fresh joints was first in line. Considering growing anything required an ultraviolet lamp and the electricity to power it, the joints were extremely valuable. She had no intentions of trading them. A half-empty pack of cigarettes was next. They were menthol and not her preference, but she would smoke them if there was nothing else. She might trade those. A functioning switch blade that still had its edge followed. There was no way she was parting with that. Finally, there was an unremarkable square, white stone. Out of everything the man possessed, it was the stone that interested her the most.
She took another hit off the joint and picked up the stone. It shimmered for a moment when it touched her skin before returning to its normal color. She raised a curious eyebrow. It could have been a trick of the light, but she didn’t think so. Kate had come to expect nothing in the world was simple, and power could hide in even the smallest of things. Spinning the stone slowly in her hand, she contemplated its existence.
"What about you is so special that you are valued above the life of a man?" she whispered softly.
"You shouldn't ask questions you don't want the answer to," a voice whispered back from the shadows.
The voice didn't surprise her. Its owner came and went as she pleased, in whatever form suited her. Her coming could mean many things. For most, it was death, but Kate didn't think her end would come that night. A small corner of her mind found comfort in the knowledge that she was likely the only one who could see and hear the darkness and live to tell the tale. That wasn't to say Kate wasn't afraid. Sometimes, enduring the being's presence, fulfilling her wishes, made Kate wish for something as blissfully simple as death. There were times when death was a blessing.
But in that moment, she wasn't afraid. She had completed her task. She looked up from the stone and peered into the inky shadows. She turned her palm up and offered the prize to her Mistress.
"What if I do want to know?"
"You're not ready. You serve me. You are loyal to me, but only to a certain point. You still question. You still fail. You lack faith, Kathleen. You don't truly believe. Not yet. Until you do, you'll have to live with your curiosity. Keep the stone. Do. Not. Lose. It."
"But I do have faith in you," Kate replied, curling her fingers around the alabaster offering.
"You feel guilt for this man's death. You believe his life to be more valuable than an object I desire. He raped. He murdered. He plundered. His is no different than any others of his race. You are not part of his species anymore. You are a child of mine. I have given you strength, power. You can become like me. Just let go of your foolish attachment to this filth."
Kate looked over at the body on the mattress. She put the joint to her lips, smoke curling around her pale features. She hardened her heart to him. He deserved to die as harshly as he had he had lived. The darkness was right. Humanity was the cause of evil in the world. She wasn't human anymore, and the man she had killed deserved none of her pity. To be like the darkness meant freedom, and Kate desperately wanted to be free. She shifted her gaze back to the dark corner.
"What would you have me do?"
A deep, feminine chuckle slid through the room. "Good girl. There are two other stones like the one in your hand. I want them. One is in the possession of this woman."
The shadows twisted and came together, blurring until a vision appeared within them. A woman walked alone through the rain, hugging a hooded cloak to her body. Suddenly, she whirled around with a sword drawn, screaming a taunt at the darkness. The vision faded and the shadows returned to normal. It had been enough to give Kate a good look at the woman's face.
"Her name is Kara Nyle. She is quite skilled with that blade of hers..."
Suddenly, something shot out of the shadows, sliding across the floor toward her. Her hand moved without her giving it thought. Her fingertips encircled the hilt of a sword. Intrigued, she raised the blade and pulled it from its sheath. It was obsidian, as black as the darkness herself. Silver runes were etched across the flat sides. A smile touched Kate's lips as she slide the blade back in its sheath and set it beside her. She tapped ash off the end of the joint.
"And the third?"
"More elusive. It is somewhere in the far northwest. I want all three. I don't care how you get them. Hold onto the ones you acquire. Protect them with your life."
"Yes, Mistress," Kate whispered softly.
"Good. You have done well, Kathleen. You deserve a reward. Rise."
She took one last hit from the joint before snubbing it out on the damp floor. She rose, starting to pull her pants up with her. But she blinked, and the creature was suddenly standing right in front of her, draped in the form she chose most often. Her body was humanoid, but as solid as onyx. Her features were beautiful, but unforgiving. Dark wings were draped over her shoulders.
A claw wrapped around her slender, bruised throat and pressed her back into the wall. The claw squeezed just enough to make her pulse leap. Kate shivered. She hated her reaction. The instant heat, the lust. But she loved it, too. She was an addict to what the darkness gave her. She knew it. Loathed it. Craved it. She could do nothing but swallow and look emptiness straight in the eye.
The dark angel leaned in and whispered greedily into Kate’s ear. “I didn't say you could pull those up..."
Thunder rumbled through the black sky. Occasionally, there was a subtle flash of the light that should always follow thunder, but it was quickly swallowed by the unnatural dark. Rain poured from thick clouds, saturating the earth with mud. The plant life had perished when the darkness came. With no sunlight to feed it, the vegetation slowly starved. First, there had been panic. People were disappearing in the dark in large numbers and resources, including oxygen to breathe, became scarce quickly. Military mobilization had followed in an attempt to quell the panic and fight an enemy they couldn't see, despite advancements in their technology. They failed. Society crumbled until all that was remained was survival. What humans and animals were left huddled in the ruins of civilization, terrified of the dark.
Rain poured through a gaping hole in the brick wall that had once been a window. The glass and frame had been destroyed long ago. Water dripped down to the decaying wooden floor. Garbage littered the room, piled high in corners and strewn across the floor. A stained, bare mattress rested against the wall. A man's lifeless corpse lay motionless upon it, his pants down around his ankles. Blood from the fresh, jagged wound encircling his neck seeped slowly into the grungy mattress. Firelight flickered in the make-shift hearth, which was nothing more than a hole in the wall that didn’t quite make it all the way through the wall. The shadows danced with the chilly breeze that sailed casually through the window. The room smelled of moldy trash, sex, and death.
Kathleen Moore sat in a dark corner, just beyond the light’s reach. Unlike so many others, she didn’t fear the dark. She understood it. She existed in it. Her knees were drawn to her chest to ward off the chill, her thin thighs as bare as the dead man's five feet from her. One of her boots was on the other side of the room, buried beneath a pile of garbage. The other was the only thing keeping her black cargo pants around her ankle. Her leather jacket was unzipped. The plain white tee shirt bunched above her breasts was saturated with blood that dripped down her flat stomach in agonizingly slow trails. Blonde locks spilled around her shoulders in messy strands, having been torn from the tie that bound them hours ago. One arm rested across her knees, a joint dangling precariously from her fingertips. She tapped a bit of ash off the end before bringing it to her lips to take a long, slow hit.
She held the smoke in her lungs, letting the drug seep into her bloodstream as her crystal blue eyes dropped down to the bloody length of barbed wire resting beside her crimson streaked hand. She exhaled slowly, mixing the room's foul stench with the potent aroma of pot.
Ten minutes ago, he had been moving above her, grunting as he pounded almost sickly thin frame into the moldy mattress. Her face and throat were bruised from his heavy hand. He was close to his climax and appropriately distracted. She had slipped the wire from inside the sleeve of her jacket. In one smooth, clean movement, her ankles had locked around his waist and the wire found its way around his neck. She had yanked, ripped, and squeezed with impossible strength, tearing the flesh across his neck wide open. His eyes had bulged with surprise. He fought her, but despite having a foot of height and eighty pounds on her, he couldn't escape. She had gifts he did not. His death was so much slower than most imagined. Victims of a slit throats and strangulation didn't die within seconds. It took very long, very slow minutes for his fists to stop slamming into her body, for his heart to finally stop beating. Kate's eyes had been locked with his for each and every one. She watched as the light within him faded, all for the simple contents of his pockets.
His jacked rested opposite the wire at her side, its contents neatly displayed on top. An old silver tin that housed fresh joints was first in line. Considering growing anything required an ultraviolet lamp and the electricity to power it, the joints were extremely valuable. She had no intentions of trading them. A half-empty pack of cigarettes was next. They were menthol and not her preference, but she would smoke them if there was nothing else. She might trade those. A functioning switch blade that still had its edge followed. There was no way she was parting with that. Finally, there was an unremarkable square, white stone. Out of everything the man possessed, it was the stone that interested her the most.
She took another hit off the joint and picked up the stone. It shimmered for a moment when it touched her skin before returning to its normal color. She raised a curious eyebrow. It could have been a trick of the light, but she didn’t think so. Kate had come to expect nothing in the world was simple, and power could hide in even the smallest of things. Spinning the stone slowly in her hand, she contemplated its existence.
"What about you is so special that you are valued above the life of a man?" she whispered softly.
"You shouldn't ask questions you don't want the answer to," a voice whispered back from the shadows.
The voice didn't surprise her. Its owner came and went as she pleased, in whatever form suited her. Her coming could mean many things. For most, it was death, but Kate didn't think her end would come that night. A small corner of her mind found comfort in the knowledge that she was likely the only one who could see and hear the darkness and live to tell the tale. That wasn't to say Kate wasn't afraid. Sometimes, enduring the being's presence, fulfilling her wishes, made Kate wish for something as blissfully simple as death. There were times when death was a blessing.
But in that moment, she wasn't afraid. She had completed her task. She looked up from the stone and peered into the inky shadows. She turned her palm up and offered the prize to her Mistress.
"What if I do want to know?"
"You're not ready. You serve me. You are loyal to me, but only to a certain point. You still question. You still fail. You lack faith, Kathleen. You don't truly believe. Not yet. Until you do, you'll have to live with your curiosity. Keep the stone. Do. Not. Lose. It."
"But I do have faith in you," Kate replied, curling her fingers around the alabaster offering.
"You feel guilt for this man's death. You believe his life to be more valuable than an object I desire. He raped. He murdered. He plundered. His is no different than any others of his race. You are not part of his species anymore. You are a child of mine. I have given you strength, power. You can become like me. Just let go of your foolish attachment to this filth."
Kate looked over at the body on the mattress. She put the joint to her lips, smoke curling around her pale features. She hardened her heart to him. He deserved to die as harshly as he had he had lived. The darkness was right. Humanity was the cause of evil in the world. She wasn't human anymore, and the man she had killed deserved none of her pity. To be like the darkness meant freedom, and Kate desperately wanted to be free. She shifted her gaze back to the dark corner.
"What would you have me do?"
A deep, feminine chuckle slid through the room. "Good girl. There are two other stones like the one in your hand. I want them. One is in the possession of this woman."
The shadows twisted and came together, blurring until a vision appeared within them. A woman walked alone through the rain, hugging a hooded cloak to her body. Suddenly, she whirled around with a sword drawn, screaming a taunt at the darkness. The vision faded and the shadows returned to normal. It had been enough to give Kate a good look at the woman's face.
"Her name is Kara Nyle. She is quite skilled with that blade of hers..."
Suddenly, something shot out of the shadows, sliding across the floor toward her. Her hand moved without her giving it thought. Her fingertips encircled the hilt of a sword. Intrigued, she raised the blade and pulled it from its sheath. It was obsidian, as black as the darkness herself. Silver runes were etched across the flat sides. A smile touched Kate's lips as she slide the blade back in its sheath and set it beside her. She tapped ash off the end of the joint.
"And the third?"
"More elusive. It is somewhere in the far northwest. I want all three. I don't care how you get them. Hold onto the ones you acquire. Protect them with your life."
"Yes, Mistress," Kate whispered softly.
"Good. You have done well, Kathleen. You deserve a reward. Rise."
She took one last hit from the joint before snubbing it out on the damp floor. She rose, starting to pull her pants up with her. But she blinked, and the creature was suddenly standing right in front of her, draped in the form she chose most often. Her body was humanoid, but as solid as onyx. Her features were beautiful, but unforgiving. Dark wings were draped over her shoulders.
A claw wrapped around her slender, bruised throat and pressed her back into the wall. The claw squeezed just enough to make her pulse leap. Kate shivered. She hated her reaction. The instant heat, the lust. But she loved it, too. She was an addict to what the darkness gave her. She knew it. Loathed it. Craved it. She could do nothing but swallow and look emptiness straight in the eye.
The dark angel leaned in and whispered greedily into Kate’s ear. “I didn't say you could pull those up..."
thestruggle
A Little Sparrow
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thestruggle
A Little Sparrow
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Isn't it pretty?
IvoryTigress
Literotica Guru
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Grins as left images...
Mmmmm....sharp and shiny.....
Side note...totally acquired a really sexy ass scimitar this weekend....
Mmmmm....sharp and shiny.....
Side note...totally acquired a really sexy ass scimitar this weekend....
thestruggle
A Little Sparrow
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That's badass! How big is it? I have no idea if there's like a regulation scimitar length. 
Edited to add! Missed you and hope you had an awesome time.
Edited to add! Missed you and hope you had an awesome time.
IvoryTigress
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It's an inch or two shorter than the length of my arm. We saw it in the blade vending booth and drooled over it for a bit of time. Swords are always a bit hard for us to invest in because they're usually just displayable pieces. Can't really play with them. But this one is small enough that I could wield it easily and it has a cutting edge to it. It's an actual weapon, not a prop sword or something. On top of it being super pretty...we thought it would be a nice little home defense tool if it ever desperately needed to be. And it would go great with costumes.
And it was lots of fun. Good people and good times. Missed you, too! But I ahve to sleep now....I have a shitty day ahead of me lol. Rest well and dream of good things when you go, gorgeous.
Presses soft lips to a softer cheek..
And it was lots of fun. Good people and good times. Missed you, too! But I ahve to sleep now....I have a shitty day ahead of me lol. Rest well and dream of good things when you go, gorgeous.
Presses soft lips to a softer cheek..
thestruggle
A Little Sparrow
- Joined
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- Posts
- 4,953
thestruggle
A Little Sparrow
- Joined
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IvoryTigress
Literotica Guru
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Mmm....both very prettiful things....
thestruggle
A Little Sparrow
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Pretty people are better, though. Pretty Cats... Prettiest Cat.
IvoryTigress
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Not as pretty as a pretty Bird...
IvoryTigress
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Thinks a beauty should leave a note...
IvoryTigress
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Artful crimson lines decorating ivory flesh. Twitching, dancing muscle, a perfect canavas.
A breathless, beautiful language....and a perfectly written note.
A knowing smirk touches soft lips.
A breathless, beautiful language....and a perfectly written note.
A knowing smirk touches soft lips.
IvoryTigress
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That smirk widens, eyes alight with emerald fire. A simple flick. A subtle click. And cold steel finds the cheek of the eloquent artist. She speaks that language, too.
IvoryTigress
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So, I'm freaking terrible at short stories. I'm even worse at things with sappy, happy endings. Truth be told, my strength is in the portrayal of suffering. So this short story is atypical. I've been trying to spit it out for way too long. It's unedited. It needs work. But I'm kinda proud of myself for finishing it. So, I'm going to stash it here, even though I think the quality of the writing and the structure in which I did it are underwhelming and don't come close to the vision I had in my head. Given where my strengths lie, I'm not sure I have the skills to do this particular story justice.
But here is the song that inspired it.
_______________________________________________________________________
She floated. Fluid darkness was all that filled the endless, empty void. Invisible currents guided her down non-existent paths. She had no sense of direction, possessed no sense of time. No sound could penetrate the black. She never questioned it. She had no list of things to do. No dreams filled her heart. She existed, nothing more and nothing less. It was all she knew and she was content in her ignorance. The obsidian swallowed her, and she fell willingly into its depths.
Until the ringing of an alarm clock penetrated the void. The bells were soft at first, easily ignored. But the sound grew and soon it shattered the comfortable silence she had thought was impenetrable. The tone was foreign and intrusive. She experienced irritation for the first time in what felt like ages. Desperate for her previous serenity, she opened her eyes to find and remove the trespasser.
Pain scorched her mind as light flashed through her vision. Caught off guard, she winced and raised a hand to shield her eyes. The ringing mercifully ceased, but the silence hadn’t quite been restored. The soft rustle of leaves kissed by a breeze teased her ears. Curiosity got the better of her and she cautiously pulled her hand from her eyes.
She gasped as an explosion of color assaulted her senses. Everything she saw was an unrecognizable mixture of vibrant shapes. But as her eyes adjusted and the haze in her mind lifted, she realized she was standing in the ruins of a city. Broken concrete streets were dusted in rubble and overrun with plant life. Vines of ivy scaled the walls of tall, vacant buildings. Thick roots from massive trees broke through sidewalks to form paths of their own. The earth had reclaimed the city long ago.
The numerous windows of the buildings were either gone or broken. What little glass that survived was tainted by time and weather. Decaying vehicles covered in rust were strewn every which way. Some were in piles from accidents while others were upside down or pushed through buildings. The crumbling towers had large gaping holes lined with black patches where fire had left its mark. The city was a fossilized war zone.
She stood in the middle of a four-way intersection, her body slowly turning as she drank in every detail. A perfectly clear sky allowed the gentle, pale moonlight to bathe the city. Though shadows crept around every corner and down alleys, she felt no hidden threats. In fact, she couldn’t recall feeling more alone.
The leaves shivered from a wind she didn’t feel. She found that strange, but the city itself was eerie and she had fallen out of the habit of questioning. She had no idea how she got there, or where she had been before. So, she accepted what her senses brought her as reality. It wasn’t as if she had other options.
Even with the little she had seen, there was something hauntingly familiar about the city. Though she didn’t believe she’d ever been there, she felt a connection she couldn’t explain. A profound sadness washed through her. The longer she stared at the ruins, the harder it became to fight tears. Silently, she mourned.
Her feet moved on their own volition. They carried her, one slow footstep at a time, around the square. Sorrow echoed in her path. But as she wandered, she began to lose herself in the surreal, ethereal beauty of her surroundings. A tiny patch of candy-apple pain glimmered in the moonlight and captured her attention. She was drawn to the remains of an over-turned sports car. The rest of the vehicle had been stripped of its color. Burn marks and dents peppered the broken remains. Captivated, she reached out and brushed a single fingertip across the taunting crimson.
The noise was deafening, a massive roar of traffic, laughter, music, and the vibrating hum of electric power. Everywhere she looked was a blur of motion. Bright florescent lights lit up the night and shrouded the once clear midnight moon. The buildings were beautiful, their architecture and composition works of art hidden in day-to-day life. There were people everywhere. The tantalizing scent of fried food from street vendors teased her nose.
But it was all too much. She was lost, drowning in a sea of sensation that overloaded her rusty mind. She couldn’t process it fast enough. The booming noise hurt her ears. The more she tried to focus on a single spot, the faster things seemed to move. She was spiraling out of control and she knew it.
She put her hands over her ears in a vain attempt to block out the thundering sounds. She dropped her gaze to her feet where sparkling silver caught her eye. Curious, she extended one foot out in front of her and studied the gem-encrusted heel that bound her ankle in delicate straps. The busy city faded beneath the desire to know more.
The shoes were magnificent, but she couldn’t recall ever owning anything like them. It never occurred to her to question the fact that she didn’t recall much of anything at all. As her eyes wandered higher, she noticed the heels matched an equally elegant sapphire gown that clung to her slender figure. Disbelieving fingertips ran down the length of the exotic material.
The sharp, vicious sound of a blaring horn shocked her from her daze. She looked up into fast approaching headlights. In her confusion, she hadn’t realized she was standing in the middle of the street. For a terrifying instant, she was trapped by the headlights and the certain death they brought. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe. Her heart had stopped in her chest.
Thankfully, her body had no interest in dying. Her legs were moving long before her mind caught up. She jumped out of the car’s path and slammed into several people on the sidewalk. Most of them spat rude comments as she fought to regain her balance, but one woman set a kind, steadying hand on her shoulder. Unable to find words, she could only nod meekly. The woman nodded softly and continued on her way.
She could feel the hammer of her heart and knew she needed to stop hyper focusing. It was all happening so fast. She didn’t know how to slow it down. Overwhelmed and almost desperate, she retreated from the flow of people to slow her breathing and put her thoughts in order. She knew she had to get control before she could continue on.
Before she could get far, a sleek red sports car pulled into street parking right in front of her. She wasn’t sure how it was possible, but there was not a doubt in her mind the shiny new car before her and the overturned, rusting vehicle she had seen previously were one and the same.
The engine died and a man stepped out and walked to the sidewalk. His suit was jet black and tailored to fit his tall, lean frame. His tie matched the color of her dress. A silver tie bar held it in place. Dark locks spilled around even darker eyes, accenting the bones in his strong features. Despite the crowd, his intense gaze found hers and her heart fluttered.
She knew him. She had no idea how or why, but something deep inside of her blossomed at the sight of him. She knew his face, his scent, the way his hand would fit with hers. She knew the sound of his voice. The panic and desperation faded, replaced by a burning need to step to him. He had the answers. All she had to do was close the gap.
As if he could read her thoughts, he extended his hand to her. His smile was kind, his knowing eyes gentle. She took that first step, but then forced herself to pause. Not a moment ago, she had chided herself for not thinking. Doubt and uncertainty crept into the back of her mind. She knew nothing about him, other than a strange certainty he was familiar and the echoes of physical sensations. Her reality seemed to be constantly shifting. She had no idea which, if any, was the real one. She doubt herself. She doubted him.
Her hesitation robbed him of his smile. Sadness and disappointment flashed in his eyes before he chuckled and shook his head. She heard him even through the roar of the city. It sent a shiver down her spine. He lowered his hand and turned to walk into the crowd. Fear instantly surged through her.
Inexplicably terrified to lose him, she hurried to follow. The volume of people seemed to increase and they all traveled in the opposite direction she intended to go. He moved through them effortlessly. They parted to make way for him. She was forced to struggle, weaving in and out of pedestrians constantly blocking her path. Every step he took widened the gap between them. Her desperation grew. Fear was a massive stone in her stomach.
She watched him turn right at the net block. When he was out of her sight entirely, her panic turned to dread. She shoved her way through the crowd and turned the corner…
…But all she saw was a deserted street. He was gone and so was everything else. The unforgiving ruins stared coldly back at her. The silence echoed. Disbelief washed over her. She slowly sank down until she rested on the crumbling remains of a curb. With her head in her hands, she despaired. She felt as though she had lost something of enormous value and would never get it back. But something in her heart refused to give up, clinging to the hope that her thoughts couldn’t be true. If she could find him again, he would explain everything to her. Searching was much better than sitting in misery.
She picked her head up and looked down the street he had turned down. Branches and colorful flowers swayed with the wind, but nothing else stirred. Knowing she was alone, she had nothing to fear. She had time.
She rose from the curb and began to navigate through the rubble. She had no real idea of what to search for or where to begin. He existed in the other city, for she had no doubt there were two. In order to find him, she had to find a way to get back to the other. But she didn’t know how she had gotten there in the first place. So, she wandered aimlessly down the street, hoping a clue would present itself. She studied the buildings around her and still found they possessed a genuine beauty despite their scars.
One building in particular stood out and she paused to stare at it. It was more overgrown than the rest, though it appeared to be because there had once been a small garden in the front. The plants that had grown there were lucky enough to have had a head start. There were flowers of every color and several great trees wove in and out of the broken windows and massive holes in the brick walls. Always one to indulge curiosity, she stepped forward to crawl around the bushes that consumed the front door. She had always loved gardens.
Large tree trunks had sprouted through the floor and blocked her from exploring most of the lower level. But the staircase leading to the next floor seemed mostly intact, save for a few broken places. She climbed slowly and with caution. Despite her vigilance, a stair gave way and she caught herself in a rush of fear and adrenaline. She pulled herself up quickly and scrambled up the few remaining stairs and sat in a hallway, gasping for breath. She let her heart and stomach settle before rising to explore.
The first room she came across was a bathroom. The tub was cracked in half and the toilet was nothing more than porcelain shards littering the floor. Slivers of glass from a shattered mirror played with the moonlight that snuck through a hole in the wall. Finding nothing but sadness, she turned away to find another room.
The next was clearly a bedroom. Bits and pieces of someone’s belongings covered the floor in memories. She tip-toed around the debris as respectfully as she could. The bed was a mess of broken wood and twisted mattress springs in the corner. The closet had collapsed. There were bits of moth-bitten, deteriorated clothes peaking out where the door would have been.
Strangely, a desk beneath a broken window had found the strength to endure. Intrigued, she started to get closer but paused when something crunched beneath her foot. She quickly looked down to find the back of a picture frame. She bent to pick it up…
…She turned it over to find a perfectly intact picture of him. The frame was no longer broken. He had been laughing at something the camera hadn’t been able to grasp. She gasped and realized the muffled sounds of the city could be heard. She looked up and saw the room as it was meant to be seen. Pictures and art adorned the walls. Even with nothing more than a glance, she adored the paintings. A soft, gray cat was curled on the pillow of the bed. The colors were soft. She smiled, thinking how easy it was to see herself living there. Just when she remembered the picture in her hand, a commotion outside drew her attention.
She stepped to the window and looked down at the street. Despite the crowd, her gaze instantly found him. His smile was knowing as he looked up at her, almost teasing. She both hated and loved it. Her heart stopped and she didn’t hear the picture as it fell from her fingertips. She bit her bottom lip, afraid to look away. He might disappear. Though she couldn’t her his laughter, she felt his breath on her ear.
His smile remained, even when he broke the connection. He turned his back and started down the street. The fear of losing him again was ice in her veins. She ran out of the bedroom and took the stairs two at a time. She raced through the front door. The back of her mind absently noted the garden was as captivating as she imagined it would be. But it was nothing more than a passing thought as she searched the sidewalk for him. She caught his profile as he turned down a street a block away.
She darted after him. There were not as many people in her way this time, but as she rounded the corner, she saw him turning yet again. Only now, he was two blocks ahead. Determination steeled her heart. It was as if his casual stroll was twice the speed she could run. She didn’t understand how he could double the distance between them when she was running.
The challenge only strengthened her resolve. She would not lose him. She picked up her pace and rounded the corner. Annoyance flared through her. He was three blocks down and entering a building. Afraid he would be gone again, she wove her way through the increasing crowd. It felt like an eternity before she stood in front of the building in question. It seemed to be a club. She could hear the fast pace of the music behind closed doors. The name of the club was on a sign above the doors, but she couldn’t read it. While she recognized the shapes and letters, they seemed jumbled and out of order.
She stepped forward and the doorman smiled as though he knew her. She had no memory of him. He spoke to her, but his words sounded as unclear as the letters on the sign. It didn’t seem to matter. He opened the door for her, regardless. She smiled sheepishly and slipped inside.
Music overwhelmed her. The pulsing rhythm of the bass thudded against her chest. The lyrics were incomprehensible. People were packed together shoulder to shoulder. There wasn’t a free space to be found. The dance floor was full of bodies in motion. She tried to look at each face, searching for his, but there were just too many.
She waded through the crowd for a closer look. She soon found it challenging to search faces and avoid inviting hands at the same time. With no luck on the dance floor, she scoured the bar from end to end only to come up empty handed. She took a recently vacated seat. She was angry with herself. She began to wonder if he was like the words she couldn’t read or lyrics she couldn’t understand. She wondered if he was real, if she was fated to spend the rest of her days locked in a maze chasing something that couldn’t be caught. Confusion was heavy in her stomach. So was sadness, but she was angry enough to ignore it.
She rose to leave and turned right into someone’s chest. She looked up to apologize and gasped. His smile was playful, teasing. Surprise stilled her thoughts and stole her words. He took her hand and guided her to the dance floor. When his body pressed to hers, her pulse skipped. Yet, she fell into his rhythm as though she’d danced with him a thousand times. The arms he wrapped around her felt like home. She wanted to bury her face in his throat and let the world fade away. Yet, she still didn’t know why. So instead, she looked up into the deep amber of his eyes. A million questions skittered through her mind but only one left her lips.
“Who are you?”
His smile turned sad as he reached up to brush a stray, unruly lock from her face. Twice now she had seen his sadness. She didn’t like it. She found herself wondering what she could do to bring back his playful teasing. Suddenly, a loud explosion from outside shook the club with such intensity the music stopped. Everyone stood still to listen. Unease and a touch of fear lingered in the air around her. Slowly, his smile disappeared entirely, replaced by a pain that was hard to look at. In that moment, she understood he knew what was happening. Her fingertips twisted into the silk of his shirt.
Two more explosions came after the first. The shockwaves rattled the club so badly the lights began to fall from the ceiling. Panic followed as more explosions shook the very ground. People began to scream and flood to the door like an army of ants.
The crowd rushed at her. She was pushed and shoved. She fought, but it wasn’t long before she was torn from him. As she was dragged to the door, she fought for her freedom and looked over her shoulder. He stood alone in the sea of people. They poured around him as if he didn’t exist. She called out, but he only shook his head in sorrow. She was thrown through the emergency exit and fell into the street. Feet trampled over her as fire rained from the sky. The air was already heavy with ash, soot, and the stench of burning flesh. She pulled her arms over her head to protect her face from a falling boot…
…But the blow never came. It took her several moments to realize the screams and explosions were gone. Only the sound of a gentle breeze remained. She slowly lowered her arms to see the ruins once again. But she had caught a glimpse of what created them. The fear she had seen and felt broke her heart. She wanted to cry, but tears still stubbornly refused to come.
She started to get up but something glimmered in the moonlight. Across the street something shined beneath a pile of rubble. Drawn by curiosity and a force she was powerless against, she moved to the pile for a closer look. She stood over the stones with both an intense longing to know what was beneath, but also an irrational fear. She had to know, but she was terrified by what she would find. A quiet courage pushed her to start moving rocks. Her hands shook, but she pressed on. The more broken concrete she moved, the more the desperate fear swelled in her chest.
She grunted as she shoved aside one last large block of brick. She gasped and put one hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. Two skeletons laid in a tangle of bones and decayed fabric. Many of the bones had been crushed beneath the weight of the debris. It was likely the cause of death, and the reason fire had not turned the bodies to ash. She fell to her knees beside them. Tears finally came.
She looked over the bones. The patches of clothing called to her. She leaned forward to study them. She swallowed when she realized some of the patches were the same color as her dress. Slowly, she reached out to touch one, but her fingertip went straight through both the cloth and the bones. It was as if they didn’t exist…or she didn’t. But she didn’t know how either was possible. She tried again several times and ended up with the same frustrating result.
She sighed but caught sight of what first drew her attention. Skeletal hands were clasped and a pair of wedding rings dangled from thin, ivory posts. She drew in a sharp breath. Unable to stop herself, she reached out to touch a ring. This time, she made contact. In an instant, a life time of memories spilled through her mind and swarmed her vision. She fell back on her but and shook her head in denial. They couldn’t be her bones laying crushed to dust. They couldn’t be his. She couldn’t be…dead. She didn’t feel dead. Yet, she knew it was true. She had known all along. Her clothes. Her body His body. Their rings.
“You were always so stubborn.”
She looked quickly over her shoulder to see him smiling that soft, amused smile.
“Derek,” she whispered softly.
“Did you think I would leave you behind? That I’d leave you alone?” he asked.
All of the things she wanted to say were stuck in the back of her throat. She lowered her gaze and sniffled. She brushed away her tears, frustrated when more spilled free. He stepped forward and his palm cupped her cheek. He turned her face up to his and he offered her his free hand.
“Come on, Lilly. You’ve been lost long enough. Let’s go home.”
Suddenly, she was exhausted. She had no idea where home would be, but she smiled when she realized it didn’t matter. Home was anywhere as long as it was with him. The moon seemed to slowly fall from the sky. It illuminated the space behind him with a cool, pale light. She slipped her hand in his. It was warm and her body was comforted when the memories of all the times her hand had been in his flashed through her mind. He helped her to her feet and brushed his lips across the tear stains on her cheeks. Nothing had ever felt so right. She had missed him. Badly. Hand in hand, they turned and walked into the moon. When the light swallowed them, the moon laid herself to rest beneath the horizon…and the sun rose over the city with a soft, morning glow.
But here is the song that inspired it.
_______________________________________________________________________
Lost
She floated. Fluid darkness was all that filled the endless, empty void. Invisible currents guided her down non-existent paths. She had no sense of direction, possessed no sense of time. No sound could penetrate the black. She never questioned it. She had no list of things to do. No dreams filled her heart. She existed, nothing more and nothing less. It was all she knew and she was content in her ignorance. The obsidian swallowed her, and she fell willingly into its depths.
Until the ringing of an alarm clock penetrated the void. The bells were soft at first, easily ignored. But the sound grew and soon it shattered the comfortable silence she had thought was impenetrable. The tone was foreign and intrusive. She experienced irritation for the first time in what felt like ages. Desperate for her previous serenity, she opened her eyes to find and remove the trespasser.
Pain scorched her mind as light flashed through her vision. Caught off guard, she winced and raised a hand to shield her eyes. The ringing mercifully ceased, but the silence hadn’t quite been restored. The soft rustle of leaves kissed by a breeze teased her ears. Curiosity got the better of her and she cautiously pulled her hand from her eyes.
She gasped as an explosion of color assaulted her senses. Everything she saw was an unrecognizable mixture of vibrant shapes. But as her eyes adjusted and the haze in her mind lifted, she realized she was standing in the ruins of a city. Broken concrete streets were dusted in rubble and overrun with plant life. Vines of ivy scaled the walls of tall, vacant buildings. Thick roots from massive trees broke through sidewalks to form paths of their own. The earth had reclaimed the city long ago.
The numerous windows of the buildings were either gone or broken. What little glass that survived was tainted by time and weather. Decaying vehicles covered in rust were strewn every which way. Some were in piles from accidents while others were upside down or pushed through buildings. The crumbling towers had large gaping holes lined with black patches where fire had left its mark. The city was a fossilized war zone.
She stood in the middle of a four-way intersection, her body slowly turning as she drank in every detail. A perfectly clear sky allowed the gentle, pale moonlight to bathe the city. Though shadows crept around every corner and down alleys, she felt no hidden threats. In fact, she couldn’t recall feeling more alone.
The leaves shivered from a wind she didn’t feel. She found that strange, but the city itself was eerie and she had fallen out of the habit of questioning. She had no idea how she got there, or where she had been before. So, she accepted what her senses brought her as reality. It wasn’t as if she had other options.
Even with the little she had seen, there was something hauntingly familiar about the city. Though she didn’t believe she’d ever been there, she felt a connection she couldn’t explain. A profound sadness washed through her. The longer she stared at the ruins, the harder it became to fight tears. Silently, she mourned.
Her feet moved on their own volition. They carried her, one slow footstep at a time, around the square. Sorrow echoed in her path. But as she wandered, she began to lose herself in the surreal, ethereal beauty of her surroundings. A tiny patch of candy-apple pain glimmered in the moonlight and captured her attention. She was drawn to the remains of an over-turned sports car. The rest of the vehicle had been stripped of its color. Burn marks and dents peppered the broken remains. Captivated, she reached out and brushed a single fingertip across the taunting crimson.
The noise was deafening, a massive roar of traffic, laughter, music, and the vibrating hum of electric power. Everywhere she looked was a blur of motion. Bright florescent lights lit up the night and shrouded the once clear midnight moon. The buildings were beautiful, their architecture and composition works of art hidden in day-to-day life. There were people everywhere. The tantalizing scent of fried food from street vendors teased her nose.
But it was all too much. She was lost, drowning in a sea of sensation that overloaded her rusty mind. She couldn’t process it fast enough. The booming noise hurt her ears. The more she tried to focus on a single spot, the faster things seemed to move. She was spiraling out of control and she knew it.
She put her hands over her ears in a vain attempt to block out the thundering sounds. She dropped her gaze to her feet where sparkling silver caught her eye. Curious, she extended one foot out in front of her and studied the gem-encrusted heel that bound her ankle in delicate straps. The busy city faded beneath the desire to know more.
The shoes were magnificent, but she couldn’t recall ever owning anything like them. It never occurred to her to question the fact that she didn’t recall much of anything at all. As her eyes wandered higher, she noticed the heels matched an equally elegant sapphire gown that clung to her slender figure. Disbelieving fingertips ran down the length of the exotic material.
The sharp, vicious sound of a blaring horn shocked her from her daze. She looked up into fast approaching headlights. In her confusion, she hadn’t realized she was standing in the middle of the street. For a terrifying instant, she was trapped by the headlights and the certain death they brought. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe. Her heart had stopped in her chest.
Thankfully, her body had no interest in dying. Her legs were moving long before her mind caught up. She jumped out of the car’s path and slammed into several people on the sidewalk. Most of them spat rude comments as she fought to regain her balance, but one woman set a kind, steadying hand on her shoulder. Unable to find words, she could only nod meekly. The woman nodded softly and continued on her way.
She could feel the hammer of her heart and knew she needed to stop hyper focusing. It was all happening so fast. She didn’t know how to slow it down. Overwhelmed and almost desperate, she retreated from the flow of people to slow her breathing and put her thoughts in order. She knew she had to get control before she could continue on.
Before she could get far, a sleek red sports car pulled into street parking right in front of her. She wasn’t sure how it was possible, but there was not a doubt in her mind the shiny new car before her and the overturned, rusting vehicle she had seen previously were one and the same.
The engine died and a man stepped out and walked to the sidewalk. His suit was jet black and tailored to fit his tall, lean frame. His tie matched the color of her dress. A silver tie bar held it in place. Dark locks spilled around even darker eyes, accenting the bones in his strong features. Despite the crowd, his intense gaze found hers and her heart fluttered.
She knew him. She had no idea how or why, but something deep inside of her blossomed at the sight of him. She knew his face, his scent, the way his hand would fit with hers. She knew the sound of his voice. The panic and desperation faded, replaced by a burning need to step to him. He had the answers. All she had to do was close the gap.
As if he could read her thoughts, he extended his hand to her. His smile was kind, his knowing eyes gentle. She took that first step, but then forced herself to pause. Not a moment ago, she had chided herself for not thinking. Doubt and uncertainty crept into the back of her mind. She knew nothing about him, other than a strange certainty he was familiar and the echoes of physical sensations. Her reality seemed to be constantly shifting. She had no idea which, if any, was the real one. She doubt herself. She doubted him.
Her hesitation robbed him of his smile. Sadness and disappointment flashed in his eyes before he chuckled and shook his head. She heard him even through the roar of the city. It sent a shiver down her spine. He lowered his hand and turned to walk into the crowd. Fear instantly surged through her.
Inexplicably terrified to lose him, she hurried to follow. The volume of people seemed to increase and they all traveled in the opposite direction she intended to go. He moved through them effortlessly. They parted to make way for him. She was forced to struggle, weaving in and out of pedestrians constantly blocking her path. Every step he took widened the gap between them. Her desperation grew. Fear was a massive stone in her stomach.
She watched him turn right at the net block. When he was out of her sight entirely, her panic turned to dread. She shoved her way through the crowd and turned the corner…
…But all she saw was a deserted street. He was gone and so was everything else. The unforgiving ruins stared coldly back at her. The silence echoed. Disbelief washed over her. She slowly sank down until she rested on the crumbling remains of a curb. With her head in her hands, she despaired. She felt as though she had lost something of enormous value and would never get it back. But something in her heart refused to give up, clinging to the hope that her thoughts couldn’t be true. If she could find him again, he would explain everything to her. Searching was much better than sitting in misery.
She picked her head up and looked down the street he had turned down. Branches and colorful flowers swayed with the wind, but nothing else stirred. Knowing she was alone, she had nothing to fear. She had time.
She rose from the curb and began to navigate through the rubble. She had no real idea of what to search for or where to begin. He existed in the other city, for she had no doubt there were two. In order to find him, she had to find a way to get back to the other. But she didn’t know how she had gotten there in the first place. So, she wandered aimlessly down the street, hoping a clue would present itself. She studied the buildings around her and still found they possessed a genuine beauty despite their scars.
One building in particular stood out and she paused to stare at it. It was more overgrown than the rest, though it appeared to be because there had once been a small garden in the front. The plants that had grown there were lucky enough to have had a head start. There were flowers of every color and several great trees wove in and out of the broken windows and massive holes in the brick walls. Always one to indulge curiosity, she stepped forward to crawl around the bushes that consumed the front door. She had always loved gardens.
Large tree trunks had sprouted through the floor and blocked her from exploring most of the lower level. But the staircase leading to the next floor seemed mostly intact, save for a few broken places. She climbed slowly and with caution. Despite her vigilance, a stair gave way and she caught herself in a rush of fear and adrenaline. She pulled herself up quickly and scrambled up the few remaining stairs and sat in a hallway, gasping for breath. She let her heart and stomach settle before rising to explore.
The first room she came across was a bathroom. The tub was cracked in half and the toilet was nothing more than porcelain shards littering the floor. Slivers of glass from a shattered mirror played with the moonlight that snuck through a hole in the wall. Finding nothing but sadness, she turned away to find another room.
The next was clearly a bedroom. Bits and pieces of someone’s belongings covered the floor in memories. She tip-toed around the debris as respectfully as she could. The bed was a mess of broken wood and twisted mattress springs in the corner. The closet had collapsed. There were bits of moth-bitten, deteriorated clothes peaking out where the door would have been.
Strangely, a desk beneath a broken window had found the strength to endure. Intrigued, she started to get closer but paused when something crunched beneath her foot. She quickly looked down to find the back of a picture frame. She bent to pick it up…
…She turned it over to find a perfectly intact picture of him. The frame was no longer broken. He had been laughing at something the camera hadn’t been able to grasp. She gasped and realized the muffled sounds of the city could be heard. She looked up and saw the room as it was meant to be seen. Pictures and art adorned the walls. Even with nothing more than a glance, she adored the paintings. A soft, gray cat was curled on the pillow of the bed. The colors were soft. She smiled, thinking how easy it was to see herself living there. Just when she remembered the picture in her hand, a commotion outside drew her attention.
She stepped to the window and looked down at the street. Despite the crowd, her gaze instantly found him. His smile was knowing as he looked up at her, almost teasing. She both hated and loved it. Her heart stopped and she didn’t hear the picture as it fell from her fingertips. She bit her bottom lip, afraid to look away. He might disappear. Though she couldn’t her his laughter, she felt his breath on her ear.
His smile remained, even when he broke the connection. He turned his back and started down the street. The fear of losing him again was ice in her veins. She ran out of the bedroom and took the stairs two at a time. She raced through the front door. The back of her mind absently noted the garden was as captivating as she imagined it would be. But it was nothing more than a passing thought as she searched the sidewalk for him. She caught his profile as he turned down a street a block away.
She darted after him. There were not as many people in her way this time, but as she rounded the corner, she saw him turning yet again. Only now, he was two blocks ahead. Determination steeled her heart. It was as if his casual stroll was twice the speed she could run. She didn’t understand how he could double the distance between them when she was running.
The challenge only strengthened her resolve. She would not lose him. She picked up her pace and rounded the corner. Annoyance flared through her. He was three blocks down and entering a building. Afraid he would be gone again, she wove her way through the increasing crowd. It felt like an eternity before she stood in front of the building in question. It seemed to be a club. She could hear the fast pace of the music behind closed doors. The name of the club was on a sign above the doors, but she couldn’t read it. While she recognized the shapes and letters, they seemed jumbled and out of order.
She stepped forward and the doorman smiled as though he knew her. She had no memory of him. He spoke to her, but his words sounded as unclear as the letters on the sign. It didn’t seem to matter. He opened the door for her, regardless. She smiled sheepishly and slipped inside.
Music overwhelmed her. The pulsing rhythm of the bass thudded against her chest. The lyrics were incomprehensible. People were packed together shoulder to shoulder. There wasn’t a free space to be found. The dance floor was full of bodies in motion. She tried to look at each face, searching for his, but there were just too many.
She waded through the crowd for a closer look. She soon found it challenging to search faces and avoid inviting hands at the same time. With no luck on the dance floor, she scoured the bar from end to end only to come up empty handed. She took a recently vacated seat. She was angry with herself. She began to wonder if he was like the words she couldn’t read or lyrics she couldn’t understand. She wondered if he was real, if she was fated to spend the rest of her days locked in a maze chasing something that couldn’t be caught. Confusion was heavy in her stomach. So was sadness, but she was angry enough to ignore it.
She rose to leave and turned right into someone’s chest. She looked up to apologize and gasped. His smile was playful, teasing. Surprise stilled her thoughts and stole her words. He took her hand and guided her to the dance floor. When his body pressed to hers, her pulse skipped. Yet, she fell into his rhythm as though she’d danced with him a thousand times. The arms he wrapped around her felt like home. She wanted to bury her face in his throat and let the world fade away. Yet, she still didn’t know why. So instead, she looked up into the deep amber of his eyes. A million questions skittered through her mind but only one left her lips.
“Who are you?”
His smile turned sad as he reached up to brush a stray, unruly lock from her face. Twice now she had seen his sadness. She didn’t like it. She found herself wondering what she could do to bring back his playful teasing. Suddenly, a loud explosion from outside shook the club with such intensity the music stopped. Everyone stood still to listen. Unease and a touch of fear lingered in the air around her. Slowly, his smile disappeared entirely, replaced by a pain that was hard to look at. In that moment, she understood he knew what was happening. Her fingertips twisted into the silk of his shirt.
Two more explosions came after the first. The shockwaves rattled the club so badly the lights began to fall from the ceiling. Panic followed as more explosions shook the very ground. People began to scream and flood to the door like an army of ants.
The crowd rushed at her. She was pushed and shoved. She fought, but it wasn’t long before she was torn from him. As she was dragged to the door, she fought for her freedom and looked over her shoulder. He stood alone in the sea of people. They poured around him as if he didn’t exist. She called out, but he only shook his head in sorrow. She was thrown through the emergency exit and fell into the street. Feet trampled over her as fire rained from the sky. The air was already heavy with ash, soot, and the stench of burning flesh. She pulled her arms over her head to protect her face from a falling boot…
…But the blow never came. It took her several moments to realize the screams and explosions were gone. Only the sound of a gentle breeze remained. She slowly lowered her arms to see the ruins once again. But she had caught a glimpse of what created them. The fear she had seen and felt broke her heart. She wanted to cry, but tears still stubbornly refused to come.
She started to get up but something glimmered in the moonlight. Across the street something shined beneath a pile of rubble. Drawn by curiosity and a force she was powerless against, she moved to the pile for a closer look. She stood over the stones with both an intense longing to know what was beneath, but also an irrational fear. She had to know, but she was terrified by what she would find. A quiet courage pushed her to start moving rocks. Her hands shook, but she pressed on. The more broken concrete she moved, the more the desperate fear swelled in her chest.
She grunted as she shoved aside one last large block of brick. She gasped and put one hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. Two skeletons laid in a tangle of bones and decayed fabric. Many of the bones had been crushed beneath the weight of the debris. It was likely the cause of death, and the reason fire had not turned the bodies to ash. She fell to her knees beside them. Tears finally came.
She looked over the bones. The patches of clothing called to her. She leaned forward to study them. She swallowed when she realized some of the patches were the same color as her dress. Slowly, she reached out to touch one, but her fingertip went straight through both the cloth and the bones. It was as if they didn’t exist…or she didn’t. But she didn’t know how either was possible. She tried again several times and ended up with the same frustrating result.
She sighed but caught sight of what first drew her attention. Skeletal hands were clasped and a pair of wedding rings dangled from thin, ivory posts. She drew in a sharp breath. Unable to stop herself, she reached out to touch a ring. This time, she made contact. In an instant, a life time of memories spilled through her mind and swarmed her vision. She fell back on her but and shook her head in denial. They couldn’t be her bones laying crushed to dust. They couldn’t be his. She couldn’t be…dead. She didn’t feel dead. Yet, she knew it was true. She had known all along. Her clothes. Her body His body. Their rings.
“You were always so stubborn.”
She looked quickly over her shoulder to see him smiling that soft, amused smile.
“Derek,” she whispered softly.
“Did you think I would leave you behind? That I’d leave you alone?” he asked.
All of the things she wanted to say were stuck in the back of her throat. She lowered her gaze and sniffled. She brushed away her tears, frustrated when more spilled free. He stepped forward and his palm cupped her cheek. He turned her face up to his and he offered her his free hand.
“Come on, Lilly. You’ve been lost long enough. Let’s go home.”
Suddenly, she was exhausted. She had no idea where home would be, but she smiled when she realized it didn’t matter. Home was anywhere as long as it was with him. The moon seemed to slowly fall from the sky. It illuminated the space behind him with a cool, pale light. She slipped her hand in his. It was warm and her body was comforted when the memories of all the times her hand had been in his flashed through her mind. He helped her to her feet and brushed his lips across the tear stains on her cheeks. Nothing had ever felt so right. She had missed him. Badly. Hand in hand, they turned and walked into the moon. When the light swallowed them, the moon laid herself to rest beneath the horizon…and the sun rose over the city with a soft, morning glow.
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