saturday - may 15, 2021
𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐨'𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐥
𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟓, 𝟏𝟐:𝟏𝟓𝐩𝐦
𝐥𝐨𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬
Three months have now elapsed since she caused herself deathly harm.
It's been nigh on thirteen weeks since her lungs were last filled with the bracing oxygen of the glacial month of February.
Much time has worn on since I last felt the heavenly touch of her lips against mine.
Her cheeks evidently suffused with color every time that specific situation occurred between the both of us.
I enjoyed every second of it when her finger skimmed over my neck,
when her hands gently pulled me in and snaked down the shape of my body,
when her breathing became heavier,
and together we drowned in the universe we had built for ourselves.
The universe in which dreams became real life.
Most days, her hair, which was dark in color, was swept up into a ponytail or simply cascaded down her back.
Her body shuddered with perturbation in my arms ever so often, and night for night I was hoping that she would stay with me a little longer.
But her date of death befell her few, now crestfallen, surroundings earlier than any of them had ever imagined in their darkest visions.
The heaviness, the breathlessness, the exhaustion have been weighing down on my chest ever since.
The grief and sorrow, it utterly pains me.
The melancholy that settled in my heart.
The bittersweet memories I reminisce about seven days a week.
It is like my heart was ripped into two halves, and I'm bleeding out ever so slowly.
My nightly visions are all about her and the smile of hers I became besotted with,
her poetic writing that had always consisted of wistful and melancholic words, and lastly,
the freckles on her rosy skin that accentuated her emerald, misty eyes that occasionally tore my heart into pieces whenever they gazed upon me with such misery and begging for relief.
Her smile was broad and it illuminated her face during the bright hours of the days, dissembling her suicidal tendencies with ease.
But now I turn to the side at night and there's no one beside me to admire and cherish.
And that is the moment that always evokes my consciousness about her tragic demise.
The heady scent of her fragrance on my hoodie is gradually fading, and with that, the memories of her and I are vanishing.
Sighing, I gaze out the window prior to resting my chin in my hand and turning my head to the right side.
The seat beside me has remained empty since February 13th, the last day she ever attended school.
If she were here, she would occasionally poke my side to make me giggle and squeal, at times nuzzle my hair and peck my lips whenever we're given a moment of privacy.
YOU ARE READING
𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 | billie eilish
Fanfiction↳ « can you stay over tonight? » ─ 𝗶𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 a girl of 16 years has been through various types of trauma. She appears secretive, cold-hearted and is seemingly unapproachable until the day she unexpectedly bumps into a girl with ceru...
