Work Text:
Drip... Drip... Drip...
The normally inconspicuous clang of falling water drops reverberated thunderously throughout the vast, barren house. A chilling wind swept as silently as a shadow through the brilliant, broad bedroom from the wide-open window. Slowly - as night claimed her dominion of earth - slithering, lumbering shadows fell over the colossal chamber - if possible - darkening the already dreary, dreadful atmosphere. The ominous, eerie, almost deafening silence was disrupted only by a symphony of slow, shuddering breaths.
Where were these soul-shredding, sorrowful noises coming from?
Imperiously, a gigantic, lumbering bed sat in the centre of the room. Filled with obscenely humongous pillows and bed covers of all manners, it posed quite an imposing presence in the eerily empty room. What lay hidden in it however, was not. If one were to focus enough, they would see that the heart-rending sounds originated from a small, unnoticeable figure clothed in a myriad of monochromatic greys and blacks that consummately camouflaged them due to the thick, woolly misty-coloured blanket that encompassed the figure; engulfing them. The tiny figure sat with a gravelly hunched back like a turtle trying to retreat back into its shell, in paralytic fear of some unseen pain and danger.
They didn’t move for what seemed like an eternity, only the sounds of their breaths and their stuttering chests being any indication of them being alive. Then suddenly, a thud resounded harshly - accompanied by a screeching sound of something shattering - and the figure snapped their head towards the noise as fast as lightning. It was a wonder they hadn’t broken their seemingly delicate and fragile neck, really. Now, the previously invisible features of the lithe figure came into glaring focus at the motion. From the angular facial structures and body stature, it was clear as a crystal that the figure was a female. She held a natural, alluring beauty that was however - rather unfortunately - marred by her tear-stricken face. It was a profoundly pitiful sight to take in. With her eyes puffy and red-rimmed and her face gaunt; her hair resembling a bird’s nest more than a human’s hair; and worst of all a terribly haunted, desolate look in her hauntingly mesmerising ultramarine eyes - that were the colour of the deep oceans - and the depressing way she held herself. She was a portrait of desolation and defeat.
And once the dark-haired young adult noticed that the cause of the abrupt disruption was a stubborn, powerful gust of wind that managed to knock down a beautiful china vase - sitting right next to the bed on a decorative drawer - with brutal blows, she once again wasted no time in burying into herself. Her soft breaths were slowly starting to turn into breathless pants as tremors started to mercilessly wreck her slender, scrawny frame.
What had caused this startling change?
A single, sadistic thought was the catalyst to this disastrous, disturbing transformation:
‘Will I never stop feeling like this? Feeling so lonely and isolated?’
In the young woman’s mind, she was ridiculing herself for even having such a thought; it had seemed like such a wasteful question to ask. After all, she knew the truth, didn’t she? Cold and bitter as it may be, but it was the undisputed truth regardless. It was a truth that was seared into her mind over and over; so much so that she can only forget it as much as she can forget her own name. It was the same truth that she learned after years and years of heartbreaks, agony and distressful departures.
She would always be alone in this world.
Her pants began turning into full-on soul-wrenching, searing sobs that wracked her body one after another with such force that they were akin to physical blows rather than caused by one’s emotions. The blue-eyed woman knew she was beginning to slip; beginning to lose herself but she didn’t care as she was drowning and drowning and drowning. And there was no one to help her, no one to even notice such a tragic and heartbreaking event was occurring. Dark, black spots began appearing in her visions as her body fought itself between gasping for air like a drowning man and sobbing inconsolably. The weeping woman could no longer form any comprehensible thoughts as she felt the excruciating pain and torment of being quite literally suffocated by her own clogging tears. However, despite the unadulterated torture she was experiencing at her own hands, her mind gathered the broken pieces of itself together out of sheer desperation and hopelessness before she lost the brutal tug-of-war on her consciousness. It was a despair that was enough to combat the relentless waves of anguish and misery and pose one final question.
‘Why was I left to be alone in this cruel world?’