And Life goes on…

The rain hit the ground with full force as she sat motionless on the bench, drenching her clothes, moistening her cheeks. The world was grey in front of her and she couldn’t even feel the rain that hit her because her mind was totally numb. There were no feelings in her. She stared ahead but saw nothing. Her consciousness refused to face the misery of her problems and to think about them. She was tired; more tired than she’d ever been in life. And now it seemed even the heavens were sharing her grief as more and more rain whipped down the sky.
Why me? She thought miserable, almost giving in to the urge of crying again but managed to control herself. She had endured it as long as she could, had kept silent as long as she could but each and every time, fate seemed to deliver a crueler hand to her, leaving her wounded and bleeding. The more she licked her wounds, the more she hoped for a cure, the more things would get worse. Sometimes she felt as if life had wound a rope around her neck and was squeezing it tighter and tighter waiting for the moment she would finally choke.
Her eyes could see the reality around her but it refused to wake any recognition in her. Silence was being broken by the sound of raindrops embracing the ground, but the silence inside her refused to hear even that. Her mind saw it all, heard it all, yet it was blank. She had collapsed. Now she was no longer the same. She doubted she would ever understand anything again. Everything was finished. She’d lost her last hope, her one and only ray of recognition and way of being able to coexist with the world while being true to herself.
The cemetery in front of her presented a gloomy picture. The graves, tombstones and the silent air were strange yet the slow breeze caressing her soaked face in the rain made her fell the cemetery was forever familiar to her and was sharing her grief. It seemed to sing to her, telling her how cruel fate had been to it. She gazed at the last grave in the corner, where a single flower sat alone near the tombstone, and even though she had seen the words inscribed on it just once she remembered them. Just like she remembered the person who lay buried in that grave. Suddenly she smiled as a fresh breeze passed her and words that person had spoken to her long ago came back to her.

“The wind is most faithful. It goes away, travels the world but sooner or later; always comes back to you. So, if I go away, just whisper to the winds, and I’ll know what you say…”

The smile was still there when images of their time spent together flashed across her mind and the first tear finally escaped her eyes, opening the bridge for the many that followed it.

“I’ll never forget you.” She whispered against the wind and with one last glance at the grave, wiped her tears. The rain was slower now and seemed like it would also be gone in a few moments. She stood up and walked away, out the door of the cemetery towards the world of the living, where she was a misfit but where she belonged, without ever looking back. She had whispered to the wind. He knew what she thought and that was enough to give her courage to go on.

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About hitomiakiko

Architect and Aspiring Writer

Posted on September 19, 2011, in Entertainment, Potpourri, Stories, Written Excerpts and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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