Castle of Glass / c.h

Prologue

And I began to let him go. Hour by hour. Days into months. It was a physical sensation, like letting out the string of a kite. Except that the string was coming from my center.

- Augusten Burroughs, you better not cry

Chapter One

Prologue

She had nothing for him. Not a single whisper, the words had been ripped from her throat, she couldn't even bring herself to look at him. Not when she couldn't bare to guess what his dark eyes seemed to hold. Anything she could have said would have been better than silence, but coherence wasn't on her side. She knew what was happening and it scared her, she'd finally gotten to a point where she could trust him, and here he was asking for too much far too soon. She wasn't ready, and he was tired of waiting. Her time had run out, she was absolutely terrified. She was scared he'd leave. What would happen then? However what had scared her far more than the thought of him leaving was one of which he might stay.

She wouldn't give him a chance, she'd cut it off now, and goodbye would be inevitable. The easy part would be done, getting away would be the hardest part, but she was willing to face it in order to save him.

That didn't stop her from wanting him to tell her everything would be okay, wrap her up in his arms the way he'd done before, but he was still stuck on the words she'd let die on her tongue, and the promises she'd forgotten. He had took leaps and bounds, hoping faith would carry him to the other side.

What he didn't know was that faith didn't have a say in the matter, because no one was ever destined to reach the other side. You could prepare but you'll never be ready for it, because every time you think you've handled the worst, a wave of painful nothings knock you down again and at this point you have no reason to get up.

Or maybe you do, maybe you have somebody offering you a hand to help you stand once again, but let's be honest your just trading your soul and what could have been for a predestined fate of eternal heart break. Nobody can ever love you enough, because more is all you'll ever want and adequate is what they'll never be.

John Green figured it right, what a treacherous thing it is, to believe a person is more than a person. However inspiring that line could have been is drowned out by the truth, and the defeating hum of silence.

She wondered, what he could have been thinking when he'd thought it up. Had someone broken his heart? Had he broken somebody else's heart, or perhaps, were they just words? Words strung together by a man who was lying, not only to himself but to the thousands that looked to him on one last deadly whim of inspiration.

It's easy to love beautiful things, and beautiful is what she was. If not on the outside, certainly on the inside? However, that doesn't make much sense, now does it? Because if you look inside you'll find nothing but blood, and guts arranged in the only way possible to sustain the life another has created for her.

She's scared, you can tell by the way she clenches her shirt in balled up fists, or by her labored breathing. It wasn't hard with her, especially considering she had her eyes shut tightly attempting to remember when all was right with the world, or at least before she'd met him.

She doesn't remember much, maybe it's because the act of forming comprehensible thought's had been stolen from her, or at least momentarily frozen, because he's looking at her. She knows what he's doing, he's searching her for all the good he knows she has in her. She can't help thinking that maybe she's never had any good in her in the first place, and this is just proof.