Fan Fiction ❯ Cold(Working Title) ❯ Cold ( Prologue )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: AidanMoon 
Same as the story summary.
Anime/Manga: Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 09.28.2002 | Updated On: 10.02.2002 | Pages: 1 | Words: 579 | Visits: 552 | Status: Work In Progress
Same as the story summary.
Anime/Manga: Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 09.28.2002 | Updated On: 10.02.2002 | Pages: 1 | Words: 579 | Visits: 552 | Status: Work In Progress
The heavy tray plunged from my hands through empty space, thunderously crashing at my feet. I hated what my eyes betrayed to me. Every filament of my essence, every hair on my head, every part of my heart and mind screamed at me. Run, cried my mind and heart. Stay, bellowed my soul. My very core was shaken and in shock, my body listened to my core. I was transfixed by what my eyes evidenced before me. Snow billowed into the room with the unpredictable gusts of air, like to gauzy curtains. An expansive red stain covered the snow on the stone balcony. The third floor bedroom was cold, but felt ablaze when compared to the freeze of my spirit. Sanguine rivers flowed over the snow and into the room. I was drowning in them, my eyes were trying to swim out of those rivers but they only swam up them.
Towards their source.
There he lay, back against the railing of the granite bastion. Legs out in front of him. Head thrown back as if looking for the answers to all his questions in the great, barren sky. I had stepped over the ruined teapot and food I had so warmly prepared. I stood on the threshold, between the balcony and room.
His eyes, forever closed in silent sleep.
His mouth, never more to open and speak.
My secret love, no more chances will I have to tell you. All from your grief, that's where this was wrought. Now I was kneeling in his frozen, snowy blood. It clung to my fine woolen skirts like icicles to the gutters of this house. I saw my blue hands reach out for him, I looked at them oddly. I am not blue, I thought, I am a peachy color which mother is always telling me I should highlight by wearing something to contrast or match it. I realized it was snowing and that I was blue from cold. Somehow, I didn't want to be warm.
I sat down next to my love. I found the razor with which he'd ended his life, I contemplated it for a moment. Then I tossed it over the edge of the railing. The wind had calmed now, the snow was reduced to one or two flakes every few moments. It was peaceful. So peaceful, abruptly I was tired. Was someone just calling my name? Oh well, I'd talk to them when I woke up. What if I don't want to wake up, ever again? The thought was strangely calming, I liked it. I always hated waking up and I loved falling asleep. If I could sleep forever next to my love, I would be so happy.
Happy, the one thing I'd rarely been.
Happy, something I'd never know.
Someone was screaming my name, but they seemed so distant. So far away...I wondered who it was. Curiosity urged me to waken, but I was so peaceful. Torn between my selfish want to be next to my darling and my new need to find out who was shouting my name. I tried to open my eyes, but the lids were stiff. My body became mindful with sensations, I was beginning to feel how numb I was.
My voice croaked out a word, possibly a name. I don't know. By then I felt someone picking my half-frozen frame. I felt myself, as though floating by magic, in the air. Numb to the caring arms beneath me.
Towards their source.
There he lay, back against the railing of the granite bastion. Legs out in front of him. Head thrown back as if looking for the answers to all his questions in the great, barren sky. I had stepped over the ruined teapot and food I had so warmly prepared. I stood on the threshold, between the balcony and room.
His eyes, forever closed in silent sleep.
His mouth, never more to open and speak.
My secret love, no more chances will I have to tell you. All from your grief, that's where this was wrought. Now I was kneeling in his frozen, snowy blood. It clung to my fine woolen skirts like icicles to the gutters of this house. I saw my blue hands reach out for him, I looked at them oddly. I am not blue, I thought, I am a peachy color which mother is always telling me I should highlight by wearing something to contrast or match it. I realized it was snowing and that I was blue from cold. Somehow, I didn't want to be warm.
I sat down next to my love. I found the razor with which he'd ended his life, I contemplated it for a moment. Then I tossed it over the edge of the railing. The wind had calmed now, the snow was reduced to one or two flakes every few moments. It was peaceful. So peaceful, abruptly I was tired. Was someone just calling my name? Oh well, I'd talk to them when I woke up. What if I don't want to wake up, ever again? The thought was strangely calming, I liked it. I always hated waking up and I loved falling asleep. If I could sleep forever next to my love, I would be so happy.
Happy, the one thing I'd rarely been.
Happy, something I'd never know.
Someone was screaming my name, but they seemed so distant. So far away...I wondered who it was. Curiosity urged me to waken, but I was so peaceful. Torn between my selfish want to be next to my darling and my new need to find out who was shouting my name. I tried to open my eyes, but the lids were stiff. My body became mindful with sensations, I was beginning to feel how numb I was.
My voice croaked out a word, possibly a name. I don't know. By then I felt someone picking my half-frozen frame. I felt myself, as though floating by magic, in the air. Numb to the caring arms beneath me.