Nothing to the End

Memory of Nothing

Her handwriting was on his skin. It was all he had anymore. Nothing turned his arms over and over, almost heart broken at it.

His stabbings and scars covered his arms, leaving barely any room for her words. He mouthed the poem, turning his arms over and over to trace the story she had embedded into him, just for him.

"There once was a girl who ran free as the spirit she was. Life was very good for her, since she had no worries about death or harm; nature was her friend, and it never let the humans near her for it knew it depended on her magic. She danced every night with the willows and sang with the songbirds as the morning sun dawned upon her fantastical land.

She was the wind, running beside the swift wolves. She was the sea, bobbing to and fro with schools of fish. She was the star of the night, dancing with the butterflies as the dusk faded into night.

It was perfect, but one boy whom she stumbled upon changed it.

He broke everything in her picture perfect world and replaced it with something much better. She fell in love with him, with his beautiful scars, with his wild hair and eyes, with his dangerous aura. She loved him, and there was nothing else in the entire world she would have instead of him."

He traced over the faint letters, remember the night she had inscribed them.

Her hair had been all over the place as she rolled onto him and gently traced along his arm. Her skin had a comforting sensation, one he had not felt before. “May I write?” she asked, peering up at him. He nodded tentatively, and she began tracing her finger along his arm. The words inked themselves on, with her cute little swirls of letters flowing into place. She dreamily smiled at him as he read the inscription. She pulled herself closer to his face and kissed him before rolling back off of him and snuggling his side again.

The crevice in the cavern serviced them with moonlight, and it gleamed on her, reflecting End’s dazzling figure to him. Her skin was unnaturally pale, especially in the winter light, but it didn’t matter. She was beautiful.

He’d do anything for her, especially in these moments. She looked back up at him, causing his stomach to flutter (What was it commonly called? Butterflies?). Nothing never felt so insignificant with her; to her, all that mattered was him.

He was hers, and she his.

End suddenly leapt up and dragged him up on his feet as well. Her spontaneousness, this was where he was to be. She shyly lead him out into the snow and sang softly as they slowly began to dance. She lead him in his leading, prepared every step with a soft kiss, and gracefully brought it to an end.

The silence in that moment was deafening; then it was pierced by one sound he would dread forever.

The silencer hadn’t been properly applied; he could tell it was Another, the amateur. He had always forgotten his mechanics, but his aim was almost as perfect as Nothing.

And now, it was too perfect.

Her knees buckled as the shock rippled through her body from her abdomen. The blood seeped through her thin nightshift and blossomed. Nothing held out his arms to catch her, like in the dance, and she smiled painfully at him. “Nana?” she muttered. “That was splendidly performed. You get mor-” She cut off into coughs as he could only stare in horror. She was dying. He had no idea how to heal her. He was Death; she was Life. He suddenly stood and dashed over to the pool.

There was no way she could leave like this. He knew the beauty of Death; it sickened and thrilled him. Here, End was more beautiful than ever, but it was so wrong-

 ~    ~    ~    ~

They had reached her magical pool, the place they first met. He desperately tried, pouring small amounts of the frosty water on her wound, ripping off his jacket and trying to staunch the flow, but she stopped his hand. “It’s okay Nana,” she whispered. “I’m going to dance forever ~ I’ll see you there, won’t I? Don’t come too soon, or then you’ll be confused too . . . .” Her eyes met his. “Go on,” he pleaded her. “You can heal yourself.” She simply shook her head. “Time to go. Death’s will is his own, but you are not His. Escape ~”