Writing is an intellect’s way of bleeding. (A small post dedication to Moulin Rouge for the heartbreak)
Night falls. The wind howls. The streets are quiet .
She sits on the porch outside her house, book in hand and camomile tea on the table next to her. The crickets near by are rubbing their wings, providing peace. She inhales the fresh air and stares at the sky.
Stars. A starry night.
Closing her eyes, a memory came instantly. How he left, not a word. Just a hug and he was gone physically the next day.
The pain hits her in the heart and she opens her tear-brimmed eyes.
drip, drip. Her tears fall off her cheek onto her sweatpants. The raindrops fall from the sky.
“God. Why?” She whispers and trembles as goosebumps form. She sniffs and picks up her ballpoint pen.
No, scrap that.
He left Where are you now
The thunder in her heart claps. The trees in the distant sway, the leaves rustle in the wind.
Promised you would take me away with you
You never really did.
Taking my heart, leaving me with nothing
But a broken soul.
She chokes on her tear and muffles her sob with her hands. Can’t let anybody hear it.
Not Mum. Not Dad.
I still look into the sky
Pen in hand
Soul still broken, the heart; gone.
Where are you now?
Don’t leave. I need you here.
“Honey! Come back in, the wind’s getting stronger!”
“It’s a thunderstorm, there’s going to be a thunderstorm soon!”
Her parents shout from inside the house.
The sky isn’t as dark as it was just now. The stars are gone. Lightning flashes around the sky, illuminating the shed next to the house.
His arms around her. His words that comfort her.
“Hush, we’ll be fine. We’ll be fine. The world may be against us, but we’re together and nothing will fall on us. We’re together. Forever.” His voice resonates in her mind. His quiet singing to soothe her to sleep; now gone. Just like him.
“Soon, I’ll head in soon!” She shouts back.
I’ll see you in another dream.
Like any other night.
I’ll stay lost in the thought of you
because we’ve both faded.
Wherever I go, you’ll still be the ghost in the room.
Rain pelts down onto the earth. The storm’s coming. Her heart beats faster and she closes her book.
“Come back. Please.” She whispers and grabs her cup as she enters her house.
Far beyond the border of her house, there he stands in front of his Jeep; hands in the pockets of his drenched trench coat. The rain falls on him like stones in his heart. He fumbles with the lock in the pocket and coughs.
“Hey Matt. She’s gone in. C’mon lets go.”
He removes the hand from his right pocket and stretches it in front him, feeling the rain on his new skin. His friend starts up the car and accelerates , pushing Matt to the ground.
“Come on, Matt. Get in!”
“Alright, alright.” He sweeps off the dirt from his hands and takes one more look at her house, making sure that her room light goes off, before entering the Jeep.
“Goodnight Charlotte. Sweet dreams.”