Stories from an Empty Room

Lies, Lies, Lies

"I don't trust you.." I told her "..you broke everything we had. For what? Nothing."
She remained silent, fiddling around with the bracelet around her wrist.
"Why won't you talk?" I asked.
"You won't hear me anyway, what's the point?"
"What do you mean?"
"I'm already the bad guy in your eyes, the suspect. So what would talking do?"
She took a deep breath, looked up to the night sky, and said "I'm tired, Conor..."

She closed her eyes.

"What do you mean you're tired?" I asked.
"I've been dealing with the same bullshit for two years now, I'm sick of it."
I remained silent.
"You think I wanted this? No, I never did. But the situation got worse as time went on, our toxic behaviors choked us to death. We couldn't save each, we were both drowning."
"If we could've just waited-"
She looked back at me.
"For what? What could've solved us? We couldn't even be honest, Conor. Everyday I kept telling myself that things would be better soon enough, that everything will die down eventually, but no. The fire kept raging on and on and on until it got to me!"
She threw a pebble into the lake as far as she could. I saw the ripple, but I never heard it hit the water.
She sat on the ground and curled into a ball.
"I could've done better.." she sobbed "..I was too fast. I kept on thinking ahead, never really grounded. I was so scared about losing you that I had to be ten steps ahead, always."
"You know I would accept you even if-"
"Liar."
"I'm sorry..."
"We're phantoms of the night, tomorrow won't even remember us. It took me a while to see that.." she paused "..we're just an amalgamation of the unrealistic expectations of each other."
She reached her hand out, asking for me to pull her back up.

She got back up, brushed off the dirt on her jeans. I wanted to give her a hug, but I can hear the voices in her head.
"Liar, liar, liar..." they whispered.
The wind blew colder as willows brushed together.
"Myrrh.." I called "..where did you get that bracelet?"
She raised her hands up, reaching out to the moon.
"A boy gave it to me when I was crying on the street."
"Where is he now?" I asked.
"I don't know, but he wants me to return this."
A dove, engraved on the clasp was 'Wanderer'.
"I'll find him." She said.