The moon had risen to its full height, casting its calming glow down on the crisp air. A shrouded figure stood motionless at the center of a cemetery. To anyone, the person could have appeared a statue except the slightly visible rise and fall of his chest, and the hardly audible beating of a heart, thrumming in the silent air. For chilling moments, nothing. Then, in a dream-like trance, the person lowered the cowl of his cloak and a tousled haired man morphed his title from statue to mysterious person.
For an even longer time he stood there. His gaze rested on a single rose, which was slowly beginning to open, revealing it's deep red color. It sat regally on a pile of soil, bursting into full bloom. Oh, how it matched the color of her lips. Her soft, perfect lips. How they parted when she laughed, flashing her square white teeth, how they felt against his when they kissed, how they pursed when she pouted. The beauty of a rose was well compared to Elizabeth, but she was much more. She could never wilt like a rose, she could never prick him when he held her, she stood for herself and needed no nurturing. But in other ways she was just like that rose. She was delicate and he always feared she would break, a rose could look fine but could be in the process of dying and you'd never be able to tell. That was what happened to Elizabeth. His Elizabeth.
If only she had mentioned it! The man's fists clenched slightly and pain flashed in his eyes. She never told him. Elizabeth was sick. She had always been sick and he'd been to selfish to notice! He let her slip through his fingers like sand, and too soon his hands had been empty.
"Why Elizabeth? Why couldn't you tell me this?"
The man's voice rang out into the silence, filling it with remorse and grief. It was his fault. But it is hers too, he thought, she never told me. Only a month ago, his sweet Elizabeth was taken my God. She left painlessly but there was so much she could've done. She was too young. She had so many dreams to fulfill and they had been damned by death. He could still hear her quiet voice in his head.
"Do you love me, Daniel?" she had asked.
"Of course I do! I would do anything for you, love. I want you to know that." he had replied.
She had remained silent, though a smile crossed her face and she gave that breathtaking laugh. The laugh that had covered her façade so well. It was something that had manipulated him so easily, that Elizabeth was fine. But she had still been sick. He should have noticed that her blue eyes had darkened to that dull grey, how she had the distant stare, how he always had to call her to catch her attention. And then on that night he received word that she was gone.
A chilly and strong wind cycled around Daniel, though his expression didn't change. His cloak billowed around him and his hair stood on end, blown up by the force. Whispers and silent screams filled the air around him, giving him bumps on his skin. Haunting words echoed in the air.
"You are to blame!"
"Why didn't you see?"
"I thought you loved me!"
"I didn't know! Elizabeth I'm sorry! Please forgive me!"
Like magic, the winds ceased abruptly and the eerie shrieks were replaced with Elizabeth's caressing voice.
"Why do you call on the negative spirits?" her voice asked, causing Daniel to jolt with surprise.
He whirled around, as if looking for a visible sign of her presence. "Negative spirits? They were you, love. They were the thoughts in your head!" he shouted to the air..
Elizabeth's quiet laugh calmed his nerves and his angry shaking subsided. A warm breath of air licked at his clothes and her sweet scent washed over him. Silent tears cascaded down his face.
