i. prelude (1)

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prelude - an introductory piece of music, most commonly an orchestral opening to an act of an opera, the first movement of a suite, or a piece preceding a fugue

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The harvest moon hung in the sky. The silvery glow was softer than the numerous street lamps that littered the roads, yet much more stunning and luminous than the countless stars that glittered in the night. The streetlights would light up the road, but the moonlight was like a beacon, and would guide her back home amidst the dark black-blue sea that painted the sky, along with the swathes of dark gray signaling oncoming rain.

She had quite the way to go before she would get back home. She threw a glance back, heart twisting at the silent and somber atmosphere that she had left, at the monuments of cold stone and baby angels, dutifully watching over their burdens. She knew what had brought her here.

Painful words, loud and roaring, such a vast contrast against the silence that now swallowed her whole, those words shared between her and the person that she could spend forever with. Accusations and piercing looks. Words that hurt - but weren't entirely untrue.

Anger and hurt had driven her away from home. Pain and despair had brought her to the field of angels and the dead. Regret and understanding and guilt was bringing her closer to home.

She sighed. The temperature hadn't seemed to drop quite as much as he had expected. The breath she'd let out didn't turn to white smoke. Only the goosebumps along her legs gave away the effect of the cold on her. She really hoped it wouldn't snow the next day.

She looked up after a few minutes of silent walking. The moon had been swallowed up by the buildings and towers in the distance. There were a few streetlights around - however the harsh, yellow-orange artificial light had nothing on the calming presence of the moon.

But the darkness that still lingered brought to her a sense of loneliness. She wanted to walk next to him - but first she'd have to apologize.

Her hand went to the pocket of her jacket instinctively, covering her phone. After a second of consideration, she turned the device on. She was unable to repress the lost feeling that crawled through her veins when she saw that she had no missed calls. Then again, she was the one who needed to apologize. So, she dialed a number she knew by heart. Her heartbeat started to thud in her ears as she heard the rings. Then -

" ... the number could not be connected ..."

She debated trying again, but decided against it, instead dialing a number that she knew wouldn't reply for awhile. She kept quiet through the ringtone and prerecorded message, unable to stop the wistfulness the tugged her heart into her throat when she heard his voice.

"Hey," she murmured into the receiver, after hearing the beep. "I'm on my way back. I don't - I -" Her voice cracked and tears rose up in her eyes. She pulled away from the receiver, taking a few deep breaths and repressing her tears.

"Hi. I'm sorry. I mean, you probably know I'm sorry, given that -" She stopped again, blushing at the invisible spectator that must be laughing at her blunders. She sighed. "Okay. I'm sorry. I know that you won't hear this message for awhile, your phone being in repairs and all that. Repairs."

The heels of her boots clicked against the empty sidewalks. She came to a stop at an intersection.

"That's what I want. I just want to fix this. I screwed up real big, and I'm so sorry for that. I didn't mean what I said. It was senseless and cruel and you deserved and still deserve so much better than that. But you were right about me."

She was walking again.

"In the beginning, I was nothing short of a manipulative bitch - you weren't wrong. But I've changed, I promise. Since I met you, everything has changed. You've helped me see the world in a different light."

Her gaze wandered through the dark sky, mindlessly surveying the stars before focusing on the phone in her hands.

"I don't want your money." The anger in her words surprised her, before she repressed the burning in her chest and the acrid taste of guilt on her tongue. "Not - not for a really long time now. I don't see you as an opportunity for success, for fame. I see you as an opportunity for the best things in life. For friendship, companionship. For - for the experience of knowing you. Of being with you."

She was not too far from home anymore. The amount of streetlights have grown and there were a few other people around.

"I still want this - us, and if you're willing, I - I'd like another chance." The reality crashed down around her shoulders. "I'm doing it again, aren't I? I'm manipulating you. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to - you don't have to - I'm so sorry."

She paused again, trying to slow the rapidly increasing pace of her heart, trying to soothe the loud, rushing sound in her ears. For a moment, silence.

"I'm also sorry for walking away from you. I promised to not leave you behind, but I guess I've never been good at keeping promises. But I can promise to try! To really try, to not turn tail and run when everything seems to fall apart. That, I can promise."

She looked around. She was at another intersection, but aside from the car far away, there was nothing of immediate threat to her or her wellbeing. She started to cross the road.

"And I know I haven't said this in awhile. But I haven't stopped-"

There was a harsh light and for some reason every instinct in her body screamed for her to run.

"- I love you. I love you so -"

She was flying. The ground sped past her before she fell against it, bones and body protesting as something started to set in. Pain. Burning, agonizing pain.

Her sense of hearing rushed back to her and she heard everything, from the drip-drop of last night's storms, the remnants of water trickling into a nearby sewer. The screech as the car stopped. A woman's yell and a car door opening.

The black surface of the road and the orange headlights seemed to be burned into her retinas.

Then her world went dark.

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⏰ Last updated: May 09, 2018 ⏰

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