• She walked through the small wooded area behind her house, listening to the crackling twigs and autumn leaves crumble beneath her feet as she made progress to no destination in particular. Small rays of sunlight peeped through the leaves and branches of the treetops above her. She stopped for a moment beside the largest tree in the wood, held out her hand and caught a sunbeam on her palm, smiling at its warmth on her pale skin. A cool breeze blew her long, frail hair from her face, whispering to her, “Follow me.” She kept walking, her hair gleaming as it caught more rays of sunlight.

    The trees grew closer together and the ground grew darker as she walked deeper into the small wood. She stopped when she reached the clearing in the center. It was bare, save a single rosebush that lie directly in the middle. She smiled faintly as she drew closer to it, reaching out. She brushed her fingertips softly against the glossy leaves, a single tear slipped down her rosy cheek. Her pale green eyes searched the bush for any sign, until she found a stem where a bloom had been picked off. She found another bloom, wrapped her fingers around the thorny stem and pulled, ignoring the crimson blood that was now trickling down her forearm as she drew the bloom to her nose and breathed in the sweet scent that reminded her of him.

    Him. The one she so impatiently waited for. She wished, wanted and prayed night and day for him to return to her and soothe her aching heart and soul. To embrace her in his warm, strong arms and hold her to him, whisper sweet nothings in her ear, brush the thin hair from her forehead and kiss it. She had already waited two long, agonizing years. Three more seemed entirely unfair to her, and it broke her heart.

    The fragile heart that lay in her bosom, that had been broken many a time before. Had never been mended. “Never,” she breathed into the hot, humid air around her as she dropped the rose and collapsed on the bright green patch of grass that lay beneath her favorite weeping willow. She let the raindrops that fell the day before drip down onto her skin and soft, pale dress. Closed her eyes, and imagined him. “Come back to me.” her breathy voice did not echo, for there was too much moisture in the air. No one would hear her. She wished he would…