Observer

Time

The only light comes from the full moon. It hangs in the sky and shines brighter than usual. A rainbow haze pulses off it, creating the illusion of staining the clouds like an oil spill. The scene below is peaceful, tranquil. Forest stretches for miles. I cannot see the ends no matter how hard I try. In the middle of the forest is a clearing. The size of a football field but instead of being an oval it is a perfect circle. And inside the circle is lush green grass.
I am of no importance to this. I do nothing but sit up here and watch.
I observe. Yes, that is what I do.
I am an observer.
I wait and watch, or rather, observe. Until this moment nothing had happened. But now the moon is frozen directly above the clearing. It beams down. But not happily. Eerily, it knows something. We don't, all we can do is wait.
A girl stumbles into the circle. She pants, constantly looking behind herself. Then she begins to walk forward.
The grass becomes lighter. Or is the moon playing tricks?
Alas no! The grass is dying. Time is moving. Yet the moon is still suspended in the sky.
The girl is taller now.
She is slimmer. Curvier.
The grass is dried up.
Nothing is left. Just crumbly dirt.
She is almost halfway now. She takes another step.
A gravestone appears.
Then another.
And another.
She has almost reached the other side when she stops and turns around.
I observe that her hair is of golden ringlets that stretch down her back.
All the gravestones have aged as well. From being polished and neat to old and broken.
Some tilt, the dirt in front starts to cave in.
Others have fallen over entirely.
Some have cracks. Or have split in half.
There are no flowers.
Then there is a scream. It comes form the girl. She falls to her knees while clutching her chest. Her scream is so painful I can see agony and loss and sorrow and torture pouring from her mouth. She curls into a ball clawing at her chest.
She shreds her clothes. She writhes on the ground.
Her hands dig into the ground. Her body violently shaking. Her back arches up with a final scream.
She can scream no more.
Burning tears cut through her face. Her hands return to her chest as if the pain could be ripped out. She quiets down for a bit. She is curled on her side, her head propped on her arm, her free hand pats her heart.
The graves continue the age.
And when I think everything will be okay, it isn't.
She screams again. This time joined with an ear splitting crunch.
Her chest tears apart. Bone shatters everywhere and her heart is yanked out by an invisible force. Blood sprays everywhere then drips out of her.
On the edge of the circle her heart lies.
Still beating.
She is still breathing.
Her face becomes pale. Then time stops.
Or at least, slows down.
Her breathing is shallow and tears continue to stream down her face.
She cannot move. Only watch her pounding heart.
Then everything disappears in a blink.
Black swallows it all.
Today was just another part of my job.
You can understand now how much I hate it.
Watching never doing.
Seeing never acting.
Doomed, the world is.