The morning woke her as it always did with heated sun lit rays speckling through the old windows of her upstairs bedroom. The sound of chirping birds brought a lazy smile to her face, as she began to wipe the sleep from her dried eye.
Things had been going good. Not “great” by any means, but she welcomed the change none-the-less. Her world had been similar to that of a nightmare. Tragedy that only seemed to disappear when she woke from her dreams. Only now, it was the other way around. And soon; very soon indeed, would she realize that tragedy would soon sink its bloodthirsty teeth into her flesh one final time.
She would cry...
“Good morning, love.”
She softly whispered in the air.
Reaching over, she awaited his touch. The caress of his hand; the warmth of his body. Instead, she felt nothing. She panicked; she was frightful; she was devastated. She ignored it. She buried it. He wouldn’t leave. Not like this. Not again.
She would cry...
A folded note took his place in the bed. Her trembling hand grasped it, fumbling the crinkled note clumsily until she finally managed to untangle it enough to make out the scribbles that belonged to him. With a sadden gaze, her eyes followed along at will. Eagerly. Slowly. Reading and re-reading each of his carefully thought out sentences.
She would cry...
A single rose pedal sat unnoticed on his pillow. An indentation of his head was still visible. He always used to say that a single rose could not survive without all of its pedals. It was his way of letting her know he’d be back; but all it did was remind her that he had chosen “it” over her... if even for one last time.
She would cry...
Her hand began to squeeze, making a tight fist as she did. As the paper screeched its crackle under the pressure of her hand, it was soon released.
“Damn, you!”
She yelled.
“Damn, you!”
One more time for good measure as she threw the balled up note to the ground. Her body collapsed, falling weakly to the ground. She wanted to scream. She wanted to question. She wanted to breath. But her screams were unheard. Her questions were unanswered. And as much as she gasped, it only made it harder for breath.
She would cry... and she did.
Digging her hands into the soft carpet, she wept. Her body became lifeless. She didn’t understand. She never had. She never would. There had been many nights now that he hadn’t slept. Staring at the ceiling; the walls... anything to take his mind someplace else.
He tried. She knew that much. He honestly tried. But she was not enough for him. She had never been enough. She accepted her role as second. She would again. If for no other reason than she had no choice. Her love for him was too deep now to let go. He needed her. He needed her all along. But there was one thing left for him to do. Something that he had never done in his life. He needed to stand on the other side of that fence, and fight for what was so important to him. You see... there was someone; someTHING rather, that needed him just as bad as he needed her. Only this time... he would protect, instead of destroy. The mighty knight would drape himself in armor for one final battle.
He would cry...
There was every reason to stay, and only one to leave. For once in his life he would do the RIGHT thing. He would uphold a tradition. A tradition that he helped create. His name will sound out again. Only this time... it would sound aloud for peace.
He would cry...
Yes... he would cry.
Not for her.
Not for himself.
He would cry...
But for all who opposed him.
Stylez has Returned!
