For a Contest - Please Like My Story!

This is for a contest, please click the link and find me in the comments [Victor Tyler-Cartel] and click "like" on my comment so that I can maybe win the contest! PLEASE AND THANK YOU!!!

This story was written for a contest, please click the link and find me in the comments [Victor Tyler-Cartel] and click "like" on my comment so that I can maybe win the contest!  PLEASE AND THANK YOU!!!

http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10151265917272556&set=a.376854422555.157025.192152212555&type=1&theater

The cool metal meets the snow, pressing it like a flower in the shape of footpads, absent of toes.  The world as pale as my skin, I notice it is devoid of all other life.  'Tis not the season for birds and doe alike, but their absence is not what irks me.  "Where art thou, my sweet?" I call out, the fog of my breath momentarily warming my face.  She enters from behind an iced over waterfall, her scantily clad form looking sickly frozen.  "Love!" I shout, a confused worry shaping my features, forcing me to reach my arms out to her as a proceed to make my way closer, post haste.

She whispers suddenly through chills and stutters, taking final steps closer to me.  She's clearly feint, and feint she did.  Like a leaf on autumn trees she spins gracefully, landing upon the crisp sea of snowflakes with no more than a light thud.  She is dead; this much I'm sadly certain.

Her grave is still warm, and her skin still a light pink.  It's just like her to die like a flower - the spring in a winter storm, the beauty in a void cold.  Soft spoken words on a cold night alone; that's all this night was destined to amount to.  To this realization, my eyes glaze over as a dark anger represses my sorrow, and my shock cries out to her.  Winds pick up and the forest speaks, leaves and snow flowing over us like each strand of hair on my scalp.  I kneel, paying no mind to this cold and slowly raise one hand to her.  Everything begs me not to touch her, to not prove to myself that her death is true, in the naive hope that her eyelashes might flutter and reveal to me the life that shined brightest through those stunning blue irises.

It is only now that I reflect upon her final words: "This is but a chapter in a book you've never read."  Yes indeed, my sweet.  May your death be peaceful, for my life will forevermore be plagued by every unread word.

Author's Note

ARTWORK NOT MINE.

This story was written for a contest, please click the link and find me in the comments [Victor Tyler-Cartel] and click "like" on my comment so that I can maybe win the contest! PLEASE AND THANK YOU!!!

http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10151265917272556&set=a.376854422555.157025.192152212555&type=1&theater