She has black hair with white streaks in them. Her eyes colored with the most elegant brown-honeyed hue. Her voice sounds like ocean waves crushing with rocks ashore. Her body tenses hugging herself and burying her face in the scarf her grandma made for her, as the wind blew and carries the leaves up letting them dance. Yellow leaves brushing on her hair as she giggled about the honey bee joke he said. Her eyes wrinkled with delight. The sun reflecting on her rosy skin as she danced with the winds and leaves. He held her warm hands and they danced until the sunsets, the sky unfolding with moon and stars.
•••
She has black hair, white streaks in them with splash of red dripping down. Her eyes closed, the eyelid pale but a trail of blood can be seen beside her right eye. Her voice silent, nothing can be heard except for the smoke from the engine. Her body dangling as she was thrown upside down, the scarf her grandma made now blotched with her granddaughters blood. He screamed for her, calling her name, pleading for her to hold on, but there was no response. People from the car on the other lane panicked and started helping them and called an ambulance. The moon reflecting on her pale skin as he stared at her still hoping that she'll be okay. He felt helpless. He held her cold hands and tears started prickling in his eyes, part of his life taken away, the sky with the moon and stars being the only one witness this tragic past.
