Left

A short story I'm considering putting in to my portfolio.

“I didn’t want to leave.”

The biting wind stole every breath from her body, her face stung in the bitter cold and there was a heavy mist muting every sound in to a dull, tinny murmur. But the words rang clear. Tiny droplets clung to her whole body, coating her from her windswept blonde hair, to scuffed shining black boots in tiny diamonds. Her head was covered by a deep red hat, with a thick scarf that matched peeking out from inside a heavy black woollen coat. What little skin that was exposed was a light honey tan. Her pale goldish green eyes had a look of utter confusion and disbelief in them as she stared out into the blurry halos surrounding the streetlamps, scattering fiery orange and yellow rings on the damp black ground.

She ignored the person who addressed her completely, choosing instead to close her eyes and lean back, losing herself in the crisp, sharp scent of mid-winter, icy air and slowly rotting leaves. As she inhaled the back of her throat burned with the cold and she coughed, raising a gloved hand to her mouth. Its partner was clutching a crumpled piece of paper. There was something comforting about being uncomfortable, she was absolutely frozen, shivering silently, but her stubbornness refused to let her move.

“Cross my heart. I never meant to hurt you,” continued her companion.

Her escort was a stark contrast to the woman herself. Ringlets of long, coal-black hair coated her shoulders, falling to the middle of her back. Her eyes were such a deep brown it was almost disturbing, it seemed like she just had two large holes in her eyes where the iris should be.  Her face was astonishingly pale, highlighted by the fact that the fleece she wore was a very light blue, and her scarf, hanging loosely about her neck without being tied, was brilliantly white. She earnestly searched her friend’s face for some kind of signal, an acknowledgement, but she got none.  Just quiet disdain.

“Please, you have to forgive me. I know I did you wrong, but I honestly never meant to.”

“Then why did you?”

The blonde’s voice was as arctic as the space around them, and the dark-haired half of the pair felt an unforgiving shiver down her spine. They had both been scared, confused. Neither of them had any idea what to do, and nobody around them, not even their immediate family, could ever understand what was going on. A loan seagull soared across the otherwise empty sky; it’s harsh, piercing cry momentarily reuniting them in their distraction. There was no trace of their old laughter, the secret smiles and knowing grins. There were no hugs to warm, no comforting hands to hold, no supportive words whispered in the ear. There was nothing, not even eye contact. The gaping distance between them dominated everything. It was a boundary that once crossed, could never be reset.

“You promised me. You said you’d be there. Always and forever. You said you loved me and that you couldn’t live without me. Then you turn around and walk right out of my life.”

The absence of outside noise was oppressive, and the disorientation caused by the mist was unavoidable. It was just the two of them, like it always had been, yet there was no way to bridge the gap now. No way to right things. They both knew it, and it haunted them.

“I know I did. I do love you, I swear. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, or ever will have. If it was possible in any way to show you I would. But...” she wasn’t sure how to finish. She couldn’t? She wouldn’t have known how to?

Her old friend regarded her for the longest time. She was taking in every little detail. The soft ringlets, the tiny hands, the long, dark lashes and tear-drop earrings. The way the scarf hung, the slight snag in the coat, the battered old trainers. She recalled the warmth of another person next to her, the silence that had never been uncomfortable until that point, the assurance that everything would be alright and that she would never be alone. She treasured the light, orangey scent that wafted up to her when she deigned to move a little closer, when she dared begin to accept the situation. The rustle of the hood. She focused on it all, forgetting that there was anything else in the world.

The two stared at each other, before relenting and clinging to one another for dear life. They were afraid to let go, yet as they broke their embrace, they stood up without saying a word. With one final  glance they turned, walking in opposite directions, they knew that they would never cross paths again. The crumpled paper floated to the floor, and the black and white photo of a grinning, dark haired girl, stared up at the hidden stars.