Whisper Of Broken Glass.

Chapter One

"When the world grows cold, and my body grows old, will our love still be as strong?"

Minutes?
Months?
Decades?

Who knows how long I've rested here.

When you're dead, it seems time can go by in the blink of an eye.

Blink.
Autumn.

Blink.
Summer.

Blink.
Winter.

Winter used to be my favorite time of year. But now, I can no longer feel the crunch of fresh snow under my feet.
I do not feel the cold air in my lungs when I breathe.
My breath does not come out in puffs in the air.
Do I even need to breath?
If I am not alive then in turn I should not need to breath, but the panic sets in after moments of not feeling my chest rise no matter if it's necessary or not.

Denial.
A feeling I had not felt since..

That night so long ago.
I had slowly made my way home, shock settling like a stone in my stomach.

By the time I had made it home, everything was foggy in my mind.

What did they look like?
Was it my imagination?
Was it all a dream?

Was The girl with a crooked neck and blood dripping from her mouth as she stared blankly at the night sky, really all a dream?

Was she really me?

I had shaken the thought off.

'No it must be a dream, I am here.
I am home.'

Entering my room, I laid silently in my bed, not a creak from the wooden floor to be heard.

Looking to window and seeing the moon glare back at me, I close my eyes, and had fell into a dreamless sleep.

The sunlight piercing into my room from the open window woke me.

Wiping my eyes, I let out a sigh as I sat up.

"Lennox?"
My mother's voice sounded from downstairs.
"Coming mother!" I had yelled back to her as politely as possible.

"Lennox!" She yelled again causing a sigh to fall from my lips as I stood up, straightening my flowing white nightgown.

Not bothering to put my slippers on to get downstairs, I traveled down the winding staircase quickly to see what my mother wanted me for.

"Where is that girl?" She asks my father with a sigh as she faces the window.

"Always in her imagination that one is, darling. She'll be down soon." He reassures her, a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm right here mother, father." I say with a small stretch as I walk towards the dining  table.
I raise an eyebrow at their lack of response to me, but I shrug it off, they must just be groggy this morning, or maybe they didn't hear me.

"Mother?" I ask, walking towards her slowly.
She did not respond verbally, but she did turn around as if she heard me, but her eyes did not land on my face.
Instead they looked around warily, and she sighed shaking her head.

"What is it darling?" My father asked, watching her carefully as she grew worried.
"I thought I heard Lennox. Can you have Jacob wake her please, Luther? I have an odd feeling." She speaks, and I feel my face pale.

My father nodds,kissing the side of her head before briskly leaving the dining room to yell to my younger brother Jacob to wake me.

"W-what?" I whisper, stepping in front of her, "mother I'm right here!" I speak, my voice growing louder.

Her eyes brows furrow as she grabs a glass from the countertop but again, she does not answer me.

"Mother!" I yell, desperately.
"I am right here!" I yell again, grabbing her wrist, but instead of connecting, my hand glides through her arm.

Tingles go through my fingers as I stare at them in shock.

She gasps, and the glass drops from her hand, shattering on the ground.

Her face is pale, and I'm sure if I could see myself, mine would be as well.

It was all real.
The screams,
The man,
Falling...
My death.
The broken girl on the rocks.

The reality of the situation settled into every pore of my body and as the feeling grew, I let out a blood curling scream, every cabinet and drawer in the kitchen flying open harshly as I do.

My mother screams in terror and falls to her knees, her arms covering her head, but I pay no mind to her, instead, crying as I mourn my own life.

It was not a dream.
It was not my imagination going wild.
I am dead.

And I was murdered.