2013 Prologue: The Irony Of Beginnings And Endings

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2013 Prologue: The Irony Of Beginnings And Endings

Skylar (Aged twenty)

July 2, 2013

Her eyesight glazed the poster for what seemed to be the three sixty fifth time. No, three sixty sixth time.

It had begun when they were children. It had become official on the thirty first of December, 2009. It had ended on the first of January, 2012. The irony of beginnings and endings...

An exact half year has passed since then.

They said that time would mend her wounds; alleviate the pain. They said that she would be able to move on. They said that something better was awaiting her in the future...-

But they were wrong; so wrong.

Time did not heal her wounds. The cicatrices that were left behind were permanent; inerasable. They were a constant reminder of the painful and pleasurable past.

Neither did time help her move on.

And the future only seemed to be holding a bucket of cold water that topples over and gets disgorged thoughtlessly over her at frequent and regular intervals. Almost like an unpleasant wake up call...

She stole a glance at the poster stuck on the grey, Surrey train station walls for one last time. Much regretted move. The details only rehashed her scars and bled them out. It shouldn't be this hard. But she could not peel her eyes off of it. I am not a masochist... I just miss it... All of it...- the setting, the script, the costumes, the camera...Our characters...and how their differences often complemented each other...

She didn't know why but she suddenly snapped out of it- like being doused in cold water. Reason told her not to confuse fiction with reality. But it was hard when fiction had snugly draped itself over her reality- the stories, the plays... and him. She knew that they were real; just not the same.

An insuppressible tide of emotion and sadness bubbled up like champagne spouting out of a bottle. She tried to cork it close. But the pressure of effervescence only built up until it ferociously gushed through and knocked her out breathless.

I wish I were the Catherine standing next to him on that poster... I wish he were my Heathcliff...

A/N: Reference - Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte.

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