And Suddenly, I Knew...

Fictional piece.
First draft - unedited.

And suddenly, I knew what life was all about.

Shoe caught on sock caught on foot – a horrible mess as the girl tried to escape from the clutches of her front door, tripping on rock and stair as she stumbled forth into winter's eve. She ran; the glare and shine of the flashing, multicolored Christmas lights were unable to even touch her as she fled down the street, steps crunching in the newly fallen snow.

There.

This intersection.

The girl propped herself up against the traffic light, watching as the red hand flickered before becoming still and solid and definite. She held herself, eyes swelling with clear drops of salty liquid as the cars rumbled silently past. There was cheer and joy and love and happiness surrounding her, but it hurt. There were children laughing and couples embracing and elderly folk ambling down the way letting the holiday season sink into their bodies, but it was too soon to join the festivities again. If she let herself enjoy the parties and food and drink, then she'd just remember the days of yesteryear when that person was by her side. That person, whom she'd soon be able to see again, and be held and hold back and let everything heal.

She laughed. Her voice echoed in her head as she felt her heartbeat pound again and again and again. It was a sign that she was alive. It was a sign that there was blood circulating throughout her veins, keeping her chained to this earth. Oxygen was all she needed to survive now. Since that time, she hadn't the will to eat or drink anymore than needed to get herself by. Her wrists had shrunk, fingers had become bony and her ribs were clearly visible underneath her thin layer of skin. Not that it mattered. None of it mattered. Her physical self was only a prison to her – it suffocated her, keeping her separated from that person. If she could, she'd shed her skin in an instant and free her self from this world that brought nothing but confusion and hurt and suffering.

No.

She couldn't.

Not yet.

Before she did anything, she had to finish what they had started. It meant living out the entirety of three months without that person and heaving and illness and bringing another life into this hellish world. But in order to appreciate paradise, that child would have to go through the painful trials and taste bits and pieces of love. When she had held him in her arms he was so small and dainty and fair skinned, just like that person. He'd grow up to have her frame and eyes, but his father's hair and voice and laugh. And with those traits, their child would find someone to love and be able to live smiling.

That's right.

Living without regrets.

Making impossible promises.

Her breaths were shallow and quick as a thin layer of snow accumulated on the top of her shoulders. The world spun around the girl as she remembered that day when that person vowed his self to her. It was two years ago, at this very intersection: this intersection, which held so many memories... this intersection, which would soon after break all his promises.

That day was so terribly cold and snowy and the stores were all lit up with lights and song, just as they were and would be every year during the holidays. That person had bundled her up in his scarf and held his arm so tightly and firmly around her waist and pulled her close as they waited for the light to change. She couldn't remember what they were talking about. In fact, she didn't remember if they even spoke at all. It was a nice silence – a silence that meant they both understood each other perfectly and there was no need for verbal communication. Cars and pedestrians zoomed deftly past them as crimson was replaced by green and they still didn't move. That person kept her planted in that spot, and the snow that collected in his hair made him look like an angel. He took back his arm and instead held her gloved hands in his and kneeled down, and everything seemed to move in slow motion. She could see her reflection in his twin mirror eyes that gazed with such intensity into her own. His lips moved and she collapsed onto the ground next to him sobbing and nodding her head and a thin band of cold metal was slipped onto her finger.

The traffic light changed and brought her back to her senses. Instead of the green light that would let her walk, the red hand still shone through the dark and the snow. The cars moved past her once more and the shops behind started to click off their store lights, leaving behind the dim glow of holiday cheer. The boy that reminded her of that person slept soundly in the hospital where he was born, only a few weeks before. She could not stand to be around him, for it only made her sad and weary. He would be able to stand on his own. He would be able to exist in this life that had forsaken those that had brought him into this world.

Her feet crunched through the settling snow as she moved towards the burning red light, unaware… no, perhaps even ignoring the cars whizzing only inches away. She had served her purpose in this world and had finished what was required of her. That person had made her unable to stand on her own. In order for her to live, she would need someone by her side. But because of this intersection, that someone was gone.

One step after another – in theory, it was simple enough.

Screech.

Crash.

Bang.

The birth of Jesus was welcomed by the silent wail of sirens.

Melancholic.

Bittersweet.

Nirvana.

Photo by: http://www.flickr.com/photos/thepeppertree/1547761147/