Not the end

         She couldn’t remember the last time she was truly happy.

         She could barely remember how it felt to be actually happy, satisfied even.

         But she remembered his face, as clear as crystal. As if she had seen his face just recently. But that, I am afraid, is simply too impossible.

         Everything was just a blur, like an abstract painting, as she fell down, down, down.

         The wind enveloped her in its powerful, yet somehow gentle, hands. It caressed her body, bringing her out of reality.

         She looked up to the ground.

         But where was up and where was down?

         She didn’t care, really.

         Everything’s just so ethereal now, almost like a dream.

         It felt like a dream as she fell.

         It felt like a dream as she plunged to earth at god knows what speed.

         It felt like a dream as the guy on the rooftop pushed her off the building and into certain death.

         How could death seem like a dream?

         Others would think it was a nightmare.

         But not her, no.

         It was okay for her.  She knew it would happen to her one way or another.

         A part of her actually wanted it to happen.

         It’s kind of weird, actually.

         She heard roaring in her ears as she traveled farther and farther down, its volume intensifying as she gathered speed. It was quite deafening. She also heard the flapping of cloth, her clothing.

         She looked down, or was it up?, at her skirt. It fluttered as the wind rushed past it.
It looked artistic, almost poetic, in some demented way. She somehow thought it was beautiful.

         She was nearing the ground very quickly.

         She wondered why it took so long for her to reach it.

         Maybe this is what it feels like to die, she thought.

         It was only a few meters away.

         She counted down the seconds.

         5.

         She was almost there.

         4.

         She remembered the last thing he said to her.

         3.

         When he said it, it was the happiest, but most ironically, the saddest moment she ever had.

         2.

         She remembered that moment and replayed it again and again in her head. How her heart stopped when he said…

         1.

         I love you.

         Then, everything just stopped.

         Well, not exactly stopped, if I say so myself.

         More like paused, if you will.

         Is there a difference?

         She stopped just five inches away from the ground.

         She did stop, but was still moving.

         Yes, it’s confusing.

         Perhaps a description would be more appropriate.

         She was above the ground. She was upside down, stationary. But her clothes still fluttered, as if the wind was still rushing past her even though she could not feel it. Her surroundings were a blur, as if she was still falling fast.

         She felt a floating feeling, like she was weightless.

         Everything was silent, the quiet almost unbearable.

         Is this death? Is this the end? She wondered.

         Yes and no.

         A voice echoed around her.

         It was a familiar voice.

         It was the voice that has been haunting her ever since his death.

         It was his voice.

         Yes, this is death. But this isn’t the end.

         She looked around her in the upside down state, frantically searching for the source of the voice.

         Wh-where are you? She asked quietly, a bit scared.

         Where are you? She asked a bit more loudly.

         Where are you?! She shouted, her voice echoing.

         She heard footsteps but could not locate where it was from.

         Her light gray eyes darted to and fro in search of the voice’s and footstep’s owner.

         She found no one.

         A tear fell from her eyes and landed on the floor.

         Where are you? She sobbed quietly. Where are you?

         You left me.

         Now, you wouldn’t even show your face.

         More tears fell.

         All was quiet again.

         Still, the tears won’t stop falling.

         A soft wind blew from behind her.

         Brought by the wind, withered petals of roses flew past her and formed an upside down figure in front of her.

         The figure of the boy she missed so much.

         The boy whom she loved the most.
         
         The boy who she wanted so much to see again.

         The boy who left her.

         The boy who left her with only a withered rose and a painful memory.

         The boy who left a scar in her heart.

         He floated in front of her, a sad smile on his face.

         He looked like the way he did when he died in her arms.

         Thankfully, he didn’t have the bloodstain on his shirt or the gaping hole on his heart where the bullet hit him.

         She stared at him in silence and in shock.

         He held out his hand to her.

         Automatically, she took it.

         It was warm, reassuring, like always.

         She couldn’t take it anymore.

         She had to let it go, let it free.

         She couldn’t hold it back any longer.

         The tears fell again.

         She threw herself at him and cried in his arms.

         He held on to her, embracing her in a warm hug.

         His left hand lay on the small of her back, pushing her closer to him.

         His other hand caressed her hair as he whispered soothing words in her ear.

         She clutched his shirt, never wanting to let it go.
         
         Her knees gave in and buckled under her.

         But he still held her tight.

         Nothing was underneath them, only the sky.

         Why did you leave? She asked in between sobs.

         Why did you leave me?

         I never left you, he replied softly.

         I was always with you.

         They stayed like that for a long time.

         It felt like an eternity.

         She didn’t want that moment to end.

         When she calmed down, he pulled back.

         She looked into his hazel eyes.

         She had to ask something.

         What did you mean by ‘this isn’t the end’?

         He smiled at her, and then stood up.

         He offered her his hand and she took it.

         He pulled her up.

         Their surroundings changed.

         It was no longer the blurred scenery.

         They were no longer upside down.

         But she didn’t look around her.

         She just looked at him, his eyes bright with joy.

         Everything settled and they were at the place she loved.

         The place where they first met.

         The beginning of it all.

         Twilight’s Labyrinth.

         She gazed around her in amazement.

         Death is not the end, he said.

         For us, it’s a new beginning.