4.26.2010

Between 2 a.m. and 4 a.m....


I was sitting at the edge of a river last night, surrounded by an innumerable amount of cherry blossom trees. The moon was beaming down through this dense haze that circled me, while my eyes were just adjusting to how it reflected into a million sparkles on the water. For a second I thought it was snowing, for it felt cold enough for it to be. Upon closer examination, I found that the thousands of flakes falling around me where actually very small, light pink blossom petals being ripped from their branches by the howling wind. It was beautiful, and I was alone.

I think I sat there for a few hours, my back against a tree trunk, talking to my grandmother. Yeah. The dead one. She wasn't there but I just felt like talking, and somehow it seemed like that was the right spot to do so, almost like it was the one spot in my world - real or dream - where she could hear every word I said. My hands were digging in the soft soil under me, I kept pressing my fingers and feeling the earth give in. I reached something with my left hand, cold and small, made out of metal. I pulled it out and placed it on the palm of my dirty hand, blowing away the dark brown wet dirt from it and seeing it shine just enough for me to know it was a ring. A simple, white gold wedding band. A man's ring.

I crawled to the river and started dipping my hands into it's frigid waters. Each time, they'd come out cleaner and the ring seemed newer. I heard footsteps and looked up across the river, and simultaneously felt the ring being swept away from my hands by the current. This overwhelming sadness flooded me as I saw the last glints of gold disappear under the water further down stream. My eyes went back up and met his across the river. He just stared, like one would stare at bug trying to crawl it's way out of a glass half filled with water. You look at it struggle and pull it's body halfway out of the water and onto the glass' wall, only to lose it's balance and grip, falling back down...starting it's fight from scratch again. His eyes were merely interested, amused by me being there, but in no way were they welcoming or comforting. He had a smirk forming on his thin lips, and the chilling blue of his eyes made me afraid. Not for too long, however, since he simply raised an eyebrow and turned around...walking away slowly, yet disappearing quickly into the fog.

I sat there and began to cry. I wish I could tell you why, but as it often happens in dreams, nothing made sense. I simply felt completely alone, and he left me there. He promised he would always be there, that when all else failed he would be by my side...but he looked dead in my eyes and finished pushing the knife deeper in my chest.

And then the lightning storm began, and things got much...much worse...

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