She saw a glimpse of him, like a tree through the fog, there but not quite there until you’re touching it, your cold fingertips grazing its moist bark confirming its existence.
Yet, he didn’t appear, her fingertips wouln’t be finding his skin, tracing that smile, he was a part of the fog, wavering in the street lights as the wind moved through it. A figment of her imagination, his name playing on her mind. Her face curved into a soft smile and she breathed in the fresh air, listening to the frozen grass crunching beneath her feet as her dogs ran around with joy. She realised with a sad pang that he never met these beautiful creatures that had kept her alive, though they drove her insane. He hadn’t seen her get tattoed to release her pain, learn to dance with abandonment, sing her heart out on a stage, grow, change, learn to live and be herself on her own terms.

They had become people frozen in the past, images left long ago in an imaginary attic in an imaginary house that was never finished and lived in.
They were once strangers, they were once again. How peculiar life is.
But I’m still here, she thought to herself, I’m still here, holding on.
If she saw him now, would she still be able to read those brown eyes? She would know his smile, out of a billion smiles, she could pick his out but his laugh, it was now a distant sound, blurry, scratched from old replays, now only an echo of time gone by.
What would it be like to see a smile you knew so well on a stranger?
She wouldn’t let herself dwell on it, she let go, unclenching her hands, breathing deeply and surprising herself for feeling okay with these thoughts. He was an important part of her history and as history that he was, like the page of an old book, a book Instagram had shook the dust off by knocking it off the shelf where it lived, she carefully closed it.
It was a story her heart had re-read so many times that its pages were worn and tear stained and now she slowly caressed the cover and put it back on its shelf in her mind and clicked x on the friend suggestion. It was a story that would not be re-written, nor forgotten, it was a love story, tragic, beautiful and had come to an end and she was okay with that.


Fall back on me…

She slipped, or had she been tripped..?
Her knees wet and burning, she felt the liquid run down her skin where the stockings had caught on whatever had taken her down and scraped her skin.
All she knew was that she had to get up. The world around her was noisy but it felt far away, spots infront of her eyes, her heart strangely calm… The darkness felt both soothing and possesive, pushing down on her like a physical weight, like a blanket; about to smother her.
She tried to get up but the ground was sharp, like needles, something tore at her skin, she tried to yelp but her tongue felt glued to the roof of her mouth…
Her dress, once the shade of a pink roses petal in the morning light was now more like a dead flower and for a moment her mothers face came into mind, angry at her for ripping her tights when she was in primary school. As if that mattered now… She smiled, dizzy, as something pulled her up, then pulled back as she realised the creature had claws, not hands, ripping at the collar of her dress, trying to get to her pale skin.
But she was up now. She started to push her way through the bushes and trees, all of them tugging and tearing at her hair, her face, she could almost feel them in her mind… Scratching at what she was.
The air around her felt thick and her lungs could hardly take it in, her chest rising and falling uselessly, the oxygen refusing to cooperate.
The darkness didn’t calm her anymore, the spots took on colours, the noise became louder as something caught her, pushed her against something rough and grating and all she could imagine were those tights she ripped falling over in the playground…
“I’m so sorry mama” she whispered as something pulled at her underwear, ripped at her clothes the noise turned to music and the music turned to a loud consistent ringing noise, her eyes tried to focus on the beast that wanted to devour her… This beast that would be her end, she wanted to see it’s face, before she died.
She wasn’t sure how she knew she was about to die but she was sure of it. If she did nothing to stop it.
She tried to concentrate her eyes, but a blow to the face knocked her sideways as she felt a burning, ripping sensation deep inside her, she could feel the blood running down her legs, she could feel the blood vessels bursting and forming purple marks on her porcelain skin, she could not see anymore, her eyes useless but she could smell it. A familiar smell… This beast, she had come across it before, but how? She had never been into a forest before, this must be a dream she reasoned with herself.
Surely she was dreaming, in her apartment, in her bed, her best friend next door in the other room…
But the noise wouldn’t stop, and the claws wouldn’t give in digging, she felt it pressing into her, it’s teeth sank into her shoulder and its tongue forced itself into her mouth, denying her access to the scream that died in her throat.
They were purple and silver and black in stripes those tights… The tights she ripped when she fell down the stairs and hit her head and her knee. She grasped them to her as if they were the most cherished item in the world. When her mother came to collect her she wept; not for her knee that needed stitches, not for the headache or the scratches, she cried, her shoulders shaking, knowing her mother would be disappointed in her for breaking her new tights, specially brought from England for her as a present.
She tried to say sorry, she remembered, but her mother just smiled and hugged her, her eyes full of tears, the fright much more important than some tights she promised to fix.
They never were fixed those tights…And she missed them, she wished she had them on now… As if they’d save her.
Was she Alex still? She couldn’t remember but the name sounded familiar, she could imagine someone shouting it at her, in fact, they were… But it was so far away…

The beast turned her around, yanking her hair, she felt it as it came out at the root.
There was no pain anymore… Just cold. And those damn tights.