Lovely Accidents

He pressed his hand against the freezing cold of her bleach - like skin. Toxic to others, but so light against his hand, he could barely remember their words. The words that always seemed to spiral from bleak raspberry and cherry-flavored lips. She ran from him, ran from everyone who dared to come close. However, he was the only one engaged in the chase. One mile, two miles, three, then four, five, six, seven, then eight. She was blind. But only when she opened her eyes, to the fullest, did the word ‘‘sight’’ truly present her with the truth behind the meaning. For miles away, he’d looked at her like she was the moon, like she was made of wonder and beauty, no one seemed to catch his eyes, like she.

For others looked at her as if she was something no one would ever learn how to love, like a broken toy, rather than the skin along her back that made her human. However, that year, the winter brought with it something greater than snow and ice.