Only As Blind

A story I wrote a short while ago, inspired by a fellow writer here on writerscafe. The theme is "See it before it's too late".

She was a girl with knee-length natural DarkOcean blue and midnight black hair, pale gaunt skin, and piercing empty hazel brown eyes. The girl always wore black or white or dark blue, no other colors. Her mind was cruel and distant, her body was fast and strong, her spirit was wild and destructive, and her heart was…she had no heart. Every foreign tongue she spoke sounded sharp and edgy, yet complete without any accent to be detected. Chills from the cold hollow abyss of her voice were common in every single person. Inside her, blood ran cold and dark through her steel veins.

Her hatred had no limits and her love was a thick line between the world and herself. She hated signs of the vain, signs of the proud, signs of the naïve, signs of the stubborn, and signs of affection. Deep inside her, loneliness didn’t exist, yet emptiness and dark emotions swirled and twisted about within the organ that was called her heart. Pain and pulsations took place effectively and frequently in the menacing chambers of her mind. Every day, the same hurt, the same twisting of dark matter, the same endangering dark pulsations acted upon her and tore her from the inside-out.

 

One day, it all lessened…because of one boy.

He said, “I have fallen in love with you.”

She said, “You’re a pathetic wretched fool.”

He said, “When a person’s in love, they’re always a fool.”

She scoffed at him.

Silence.

She said, “Impossible.”

He said, “Yes, I thought so too, but I love you. It doesn’t matter how cold you are because that’s the you I have fallen in love with.”

She stared at him.

He smiled.

She turned away.

She said, “Whatever.”

She realized, “There’s less pain today. I do not hate what he has done…”

 

He was a boy with temple short natural light green and dark brown hair, fair light brown skin, and overwhelmingly loving sea green eyes. The boy always wore spring colors or autumn colors. His mind was kind and understanding, his body was fast and strong, his spirit was free and peaceful, and his heart was big, caring, compassionate…yet weak. Every foreign tongue he spoke sounded smooth and fluent. Affection and joy from the welcoming and gentle light of his voice were common in every single person. Inside him, blood ran warm and amorous through his glass veins.

From that day, he was consistently at her side, never failing to come to her, whether she called or not. The boy would talk to her and ask her questions as she looked away in the distance. There were very few times that she ever acknowledged him or spoke more than a sentence to him. It was when she talked to him or acknowledged him that made his day. Sometimes, there would be only silence as he continued his passions.

He was a painter and she was his main muse. Many times, she’d lead him to a place full of people or lively places of nature and watch as his brush or whatever tool he was deciding to use that day moved back and forth. They’d spend hours of silence on these days as he let what he saw become life through his hands and she watched him ever carefully, wondering about his world and the world around her. Not once did he ever question about the why, but instead always asking the how and when and what. Her pain was slowly slipping away and she wondered if it was him.

 

One day, her pain returned…because he finally asked why.

He said, “You’re always tolerating me. Why?”

She said, “You love me, so I will not deter you.”

He said, “Strange…why not?”

She said, “It is your choice who you love, not mine. I will not force you nor avoid you merely because of the feelings you hold towards me.”

He stared at her.

He asked, “What if I force my feelings on you?”

She said, “That is your choice. I cannot stop you from doing so, but it is my choice of how I react.”

Silence.

He stared at the skies.

She realized, “The pain is back. Why must I hurt so much?”

He stared at her.

She stared back.

He stood up and walked to her side.

She watched him closely.

He sat down.

She questions herself, “Was his question truly a what-if or was it a what-will-happen?”

He said, “So what I do is my choice and your reaction is your choice, but my choice is not to be forced by you nor as well is your reaction to be forced by me.”

She said, “Yes.”

He smiled.

He kissed her.

She did not respond.

She realized, “My pain is gone and I do not hate what he has done…”

 

After that day, she never called him again because he never strayed. She never refused him and she never faltered in holding up the wall between them. Days passed by and she saw his love and passions grow. Weeks passed by and he learned more about her. In time, he could tell the slightest change or addition of emotions just from very specific aspects of her features or the tone of her voice. With time, she watched as his love never faltered, growing more and more, and his passions developed beyond any genius. When he was offered early opportunities to pursue his passion, he always declined.

Every day they had was spent together. She grew accustomed to his unmistakable bright presence and warm voice as he grew accustomed to her tense silence and unmistakable dark presence. Not once did he ever leave her without saying where he was going. Just the same, there was never a time that she failed to neither meet him nor go somewhere else. Through their time together, she had come to prefer his company than the silence of others and her family. Silence felt so foreign to her now, whereas loud noise and chaotic atmospheres felt strange and imprisoning to him.

Things were changing within her, but she didn’t want to admit to the changes. Against all odds, she wouldn’t admit that a mere boy in love had changed her. A heart pulsed in the old dark abyss of her chest and the pain no longer haunted her. Love was still a thick line between the world and herself, yet the signs that she couldn’t stand before were not as intolerable. Deep inside her, loneliness invaded her whenever he was not around. Pain and pulsations took place no more in the now less intimidating chambers of her mind. Her mind was still cruel and distant, though not as strong as it once was and her wild destructive spirit had calmed, but only a little bit. Every foreign tongue she spoke wasn’t sharp or edgy anymore. It was fluent and calm, when she wanted it to be.

All of the credit for these changes was due to the boy. She knew it. He had changed her. Staying by her side, looking for her whenever she could not be found, being the only one to trust and believe in her, he intruded upon her darkness, gave her a heart, and placed one golden string at its core to represent him. Meeting him every day, he became a necessity. The boy became her air and light.

 

One day, she found herself broken because…he didn’t come.

She panicked for the first time in her life.

She ran to their favorite places.

Only the usual people.

She ran to his favorite places.

Only the usual people.

She ran to his home.

No one.

She ran through the town.

People stared at her.

They saw the pain and desperation in her eyes.

They felt hurt too.

She ignored them.

She needed him.

Someone called out to her.

She kept going.

They said, “I can take you to him.”

She stopped.

She walked to them.

She asked, “Where is he?”

They said, “He’s in the hospital.”

She asked, “What happened?”

They said, “He was in a car accident. He’s dead.”

She turned away.

She said, “Take me there.”

They ran together to his room.

She saw him on his bed.

He was dead.

Tears escaped her eyes.

She broke down.

She screamed, “NO!! No, you can’t leave me, you can’t!! No…I love you.”

She realized, “Yes…I loved him.”

His mother moved to her side.

His mother said, “H-he left a note…Come with me.”

They walked out.

They went to his home.

His mother pushed her into his room.

His mother said, “A-All of his work in here and any other work he has ever made b-belongs to you now.”

She entered his room.

A single painting caught her attention.

It was her as a male demon and him as a female angel.

The angel held the demon from above and the demon reached to the angel from below.

The angel kissed the demon with love and warmth.

The demon stared at the angel with the ghost of a smile.

In a corner it said, “Though you are cold, though you may hate me, I’ll always love you. So from the farthest reaches of the heavens, I’ll still reach to you and kiss you to be the other half to your cold empty heart. I love you, my precious demon. I cannot live without you. Always and forever, my demonic love.”

She whispered, “I love you too.”

 

You are only as blind as you want to be, so you better realize and accept it because sometimes…it’s too late.

Reviews

[Eli Blayze]

Wow. I am speechless. That was absolutly incredible. The flow of the story was wonderful, the tone, the everything. Very, very , very good job.