ChoiceWhen she thought about him, her recollection didn't fit the the person he once was, in her memory. So she had to go there, find him, and try and prove to herself that nothing had changed. Yet his face, you could see it in his eyes, was broken. The image he projected of himself was one that was violated and bruised. His eyes lit through his very soul but the colour wasn't right. They'd always been brown, but now they were grey, as if they were the very first part of him to give up living.Choice
More Like This
"I want to die."
His strained words matched the pieces his broken body had splintered into and she gripped his wrist between icy cold fingers whilst trying to find the words that could convince him to change his mind. She wasn't shocked, but she was saddened, and she ran her thoughts through their best and most common memories to find something to convince him to breathe.
"When you die," she said calmly, "You don't get to feel the wind in your hair as you drive along an empty road with the windows roll