Blooming and Wilting

Current Mood: Depressed

A cold grip tightened around my heart, and for a fraction of time - the constant drumming seemed to stop...before it continued to pound slowly and deliberately.

Then, there was the onslaught of blood rushing towards my ears and nose. Unshed tears clung onto my lashes as I felt the rims of my eyelids burn. In such an inappropriate time, I dimly pondered on my appearance - I made quite a biased wager against myself that my eyes would already be bloodshot.

Finally, I could feel the first tear fall. So fast, was its journey, that it left only a faint trail of coolness on my cheeks. Contrary to popular belief, the tears did not roll down my face one after the other - it was quite the opposite, actually. I had to almost squeeze them out. This did not mean that I wasn't upset! Of course I was! There was an unsettling amount of sadness, of regret, of pity and of helplessness that was thumping against my emotional defences. Unsettling, as I don't think I've ever seen her.

Yet the more I thought about it, the more my nose became runny and the more my eyes began to sting. The more I thought about it, the more my imagination became a living creature: picturing the discovered body, imagining the urn and the milky white arms holding it close to her breast, fingers gripping so tight that the knuckles turned white. I'd see her body, on a slightly messy, unmade double bed, curled around that simple yet priceless bottle, clinging to it like she was to her sanity...

The worst, was the sentence floating around my head, unable to be shoved into some dark corner of my mind..."I could see the open mouth, the horrifyingly blank eyes, and that image will stay with me forever..."

I wonder if she saw her life flash before her? Did fear claw its way around her heart like it did mine? Did she regret it? Did she see the end coming...and cry out for the one who loved her the most?

It seem so short. Her time. Blooming and wilting, like a tender pink rose, right before our very eyes...