Departure

The sky had lost its last smear of red. Her black stilettos clanked on the concrete as she made her way to the same spot. It was around this time, every November, she’d come to visit me. Her blue-black hair gleamed even in the dark, casting an eerie look. Her smoky eye makeup didn’t help either – I always hated her fashion choices. To be honest, I hated every choice she made after I left, but there was no stopping her. It was how she expressed her loss, conveyed through layers of paint, glitter and misery.  She tried desperately to conceal her scars, but alas, how could she mask the indelible memories?

She shuddered as she grew closer to her destination, but not out of cold. The concrete had changed to wet moss at some point so the only sound was that of the howling wind. She furrowed her brows as she registered the presence of new stones planted on the ground. More of them. Gradually, she found the stone with my name carved on it. She grazed the writing, reminiscing. All her endeavors to remain composed went in vain; black tinted droplets streamed down her cheeks. Every damn year she would convince herself she was over it, only to break down completely when confronted. From the small pocket of her dress, she pulled out a delicate white flower, exhaled a deep sigh, and gently placed it down. 

She never really forgave me for my premature departure.  

~Noyolee