What Matters

I wrote this some time ago, while waiting in the library one chilly afternoon. To be honest, I wasn't quite sure what category I should have placed it under, so I decided that Other would be the best label for it.

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1. What Matters

She gazed up as snow fell all around her. Her breath came out as puffs, kept warm by the scarf around her neck, the worn-out coat embracing her and the beanie protecting her head. Not a sound was heard but the wind's soft moans as it occasionally blew by. Though the cold of the early night nipped at her relentlessly, she would not budge. The cerulean blue eyes remained fixated on the falling flakes. Slowly the girl let her eyes close, releshing the icy touch of Jack Frost caressing her cheek.

 

Alone. It was a bittersweet feeling, especially after all that had gone on, what had happened. There was no where she could escape, and it was driving her absolutely mad. Everywhere, anywhere, someone was always there. Lately she was suffering from constant jolts and continuous nightmares, failing to contain the bubbling troubles sending her down the spiral of insanity. Life, death, the line which separated them was disappating and eventually they'd be one in the same. 

 

The girl needed time to think. To breathe. To collect. Her mind had become fragile over the years as little by little she was repeatedly hurt. She couldn't repair herself if she wasn't alone. Opening her eyes, hot tears began to flood out, scalding her frozen face. It hurt. Just as the re-opening hole in her chest did. As did the scars of life marking her both physically and mentally. She inwardly screamed at the suffering torment she was experiencing, what jaded her heart, her mind, her soul.

 

Staring blankly down at her booted toes, she felt herself go numb, not only from the cold, but from the resignation of living being human. A sort of detachment came over her, as she convinced herself that there was no point. It was useless.

 

"Nothing matters." She whispered as she drew a pocket knife from her pocket.

 

She had planned this for ages. Today would finally be the day to which she followed through. Closing her hand into a fist, she pulled her sleeve back, just enough to reveal the skin of her wrist. Enough was enough. No more. She had enough with it all. No more. No more. No more...

 

A sudden embrace from behind caused her to jump from the self-pity she wallowed in. Out of breath, the other desperately held on to her, as if their life depended on it. They clutched her so hard, the knife dropped from her hands and plopped clumsily on the blanketed ground. She could feel their tears falling onto her shoulders, and though she attempted to crane her neck for curiosity's sake, her movement was restricted, as if she was caged in. Sobs shook the other's figure and from the strength of his grip, she assumed the other was a boy. With great difficulty she placed her hand gingerly on his forearm , causing him to kiss her on the forehead. Her eyes widened in bewilderment. Now it was her turn to cry.  Finally, she let her burdens seep out of her as a snake sheds their skin. Scream, yell, shout, she didn't care anymore. She wanted to be heard. Be seen. Be acknowledged. Through her shrieking agony, she heard the boy from behind murmur tenderly in her ear:

 

"Everything matters."

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