There's a story in her head,
A story of love,
A story she knows what comes next
...pain.
She climbs out of bed, puts on her make up and faces the world.
Her phone chimed.
Her heart skipped a beat.
'What the hell just happened?', her mind wandered off.
He greeted her with a smile, maybe, he is smiling, she isn't sure.
How would she? She does not see him.
She heard his voice, read his messages.
It dawned on her.
What was it? That thing they called it?
Falling in love?
Everyone's on a rave about that.
Every topic she reads were full of that.
Her phone rang and she picked it up.
"Hi!"
"How are you?"
His voice sounded like music.
'gah, no way, I'm thinking of such' she thought to herself, irritated.
"Doing fine"
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I am, and you? Did you have another thought of running away?"
He laughed and she grinned.
"I guess so"
"You guess so and I can hear the rain, are you out?"
"Yeah, standing by the road"
"What the - !"
Static.
What came next was silence.
Her heart started to beat fast like she is running a hundred meter dash.
She ran outside.
It's raining, too.
Her phone chimed again. A message received from him. Her eyes started to brim with tears. Drenched with the rain, she wept.
"What did I expect?", she asked no one in particular.
=***=
He sent the message to her, like throwing a dagger to someone yet it came back to you. That feeling nearly made him sigh.
"What else did I expect? I'm always gonna be the one who'll stay away", he said to himself, the last word sounded distant.
He walks away and walks more, to somewhere, even he does not know.
"Hey!"
Someone called from behind. He didn't turned around to see who it is.
"Don't go, please!"
Pleading voice...
=***=
"Don't go" she whispered to the wind, to the rain that kissed her face, to the cold that sips in.
She wishes to be there, near him, to hold him for real and won't allow the darkness to envelope him away from her, from everyone else.
...
...
...
There's a story in her head,
a story of love,
a story of pain,
a story both didn't expected to end that way.
The hours
The days
The weeks
The months
Yet no years to say
There's a story in her head...
A story yet to begin but already in its own finale.