The Beacon

A thousand ships couldn't sail me back from distress, when you are still there, a flaming beacon in the distance, a fire I can't put out. And Death, Death yearns to take me, Death is the cold, the snow and the rain, the merciless cry of the wind. But why are you still burning, you're burning and I'm dying. What I am afraid of? Nothing. Nothing but you. Nothing but Death and his cold hands. You, the light to my dark and the end of salvation. You, the final warmth in a world so cold and broken. You. You're Death.

Words

Wrong, this is just wrong, this is not something that just happens. Things take time, and somehow there was a huge gap missing, a jump in time from nothing to something. A wrong something, a twisted, sick, crippled something that would be better off as a nothing. Of course, now that they were here in the first place, there wasn't much to do about it. They could live it out here and now or they could let the wrong die. Wordlessly, they both hung on, kept on going, had room for one another. Silently. Words. Words would be their undoing.

Oh shit...

"Oh shit..."
"That's the pretty way of saying it. What are you going to do now?"
"I don't know. We're both knee deep in this shit together."
"How come?"
"They'll kill you if they find out."
"As if."
"I almost wish I was kidding."
"Almost? Isn't that I little... Weak?"
"Weak? You're the one that started all this, you ought to know the consequences."
"I'm not the one who's young AND stupid."
"That comes from you? You barely remember what I told you last night!"
"Ah, screw this. Wanna leave?"
"Let's ditch this bitch, baby."
"I love you."
"I know."

Doll

She wasn't gone yet. The rain was pouring outside the window, big, fat drops of icy water. She was still lying on the floor like a broken doll, the last lazy drops of blood falling to the floor in the same rythm as outside. He wasn't moving either. The room was cold aroud him. The cynical part of him regretted it. The other part of him was still caught in the horrible frenzy, cutting deep gashes in his own arms. It hurt on the outside, but inside he was completely numb. And she lay there, bleeding. Bleeding, like a doll.