Giving In

One

She told me it wasn't the first time she had thought about death. I mean, I couldn't blame her, the leaves practically choking the trees's throats, the soil wet, dense and dark enough to swallow someone whole. These stories were intriguing, I was almost able to imagine myself in them...as if it were a dream of my own, but they formed in her mind and her heart and when she told them from the soul, oh man, she told them well.

    I could never stop staring. Her hair in long double braids delicately falling on the front of her shoulders down to her rib cage. She moved as if the air was water and her body the foam at the tops of waves, crashing and reforming against sharp edged rocks. She seemed to drift and drift and ....

She only visited at night though, her presence bearing my eyes open around 3 am, but simply welcoming. Her entrance lightly lit up the room. Her first visit to me, or rather, to "our" house was... interesting.

I just lay my head on my feather pillow for the night. It had been a long and stressful day, my body seemed to be withering away because of the sleep deprivation. My eyes could sense a bright light hovering over my eyelids. I blinked them open.
There was a figure tip-toeing around my wooden floors, rummaging through my desk supplies. Their back was to me, shaking slightly. They had a sense to them, a radiation, as if they were lost... I cleared my throat. Tucking my hair behind my ear, I quietly removed the blanket from across my legs. This caused them to swiftly turn and face me. It was like she was a ghost, a figment of my imagination. Although, her eyes seemed to pierce through me, investigating each inch of my nerves, she was whole. A whole person. A whole soul. A whole...her. And she was everything, she was beautiful.