balance

I stared through the glass out into the courtyard with a sense of forborne longing that hung itself over my head as if a thick smog. The cast iron figures stood noble and courageous looking down on the flowers and bushes. In the center stood a lonely, weathered fountain from which water once poured out from a long, winding fresh water underground stream. The fountain stood tall and of once handsome concrete, it was the shady grey color of a new morning’s fog hanging over the dew kissed blades of grass. Directly below, in its dark crooked shadow, grew a small dark red rose. It could have grown under the great Sycamore tree welcomed by the humble Daisies, or even around the rickety fence that surrounded the great garden with the Daffodils or pansies, and have prospered to become a great rose bush that was looked up to by all of the flowers and bushes and critters that dwelled in the yard. But instead, chose to grow in the shadow of the broken fountain. As she looked out into the yard, thunder like great growls of snarling lions rumbled over the twilight sky. Rain poured down drenching the cracked concrete pathways and plaiting its way through the thick lush grass. Wild flowers seemed to cringe at the crisp chill of the downpour. Then, hail like stones pelted down in their direction severing all of the flowers of their tops and slicing through their fragile leaves and petals, all of which accept the rose which stood unharmed under the fountain. The angel that stood atop the fountain was taking a brutal beating and her great detailed wings began to crack and her small nose fell and shattered on the pathway. Her wings began to slowly at first then rapidly, chip away and rain down on all sides of the rose which now was lightly covered with the sprinkle of rain blown at it by the howling wind. The rusted metal of the nobles began to dent. The clang of the hail hitting the metal reminded the girl of the sound of the accident that claimed her parents in a storm such as this many moons ago. Lightning tore across the sky ripping it to bits reminding her of the streaming headlights and lights of the ambulance. The sky ripped like wet tissue paper, bits of the broken, dead flowers cast shadows that moved like zombies when the light flashed across the darkened sky. She looked down at her dark clothing, her eyes hovered over the chains that hung all the way down her pants, looping and crossing in all directions. As she looked back up lightning flashed once more and turned the window into a temporary window and she could see the dark circles around her eyes from her running mascara. She then realized she had begun crying and quickly wiped away the streaks in fear of someone seeing, that would be a fatal blow to her. She once again turned her eyes to the rose; remaining unharmed still. Then the all too familiar shriek of shattering glass reverberated across the chill dark neighborhood. The sound of crying children and animals blended together and it was impossible to separate them to identify, the sight of the window on her mothers side of the car shattering and blowing bits of glass into her gentle face shot across her mind and she could feel the sting of shards blowing into her face too. She lifted her hand and felt the long scar that lined her cheek, shook the movie like scene form her memory and turned back to the rose, eyes clouded with tears once more. All seemed to be in despair, except once again the rose. Despite the threats the howling wind sent in its direction, the rose stood tall and strong still unharmed. The hail then stopped but the rain persisted to pour down on the broken bodies of the flowers. She threw the sliding glass of the window up and jumped out. She fell with a thick earthy thump, water flying in all directions. Sitting on her knees, she looked up to the sky and screamed a long cry of despair and sat weeping on the soggy grass slowly sinking into the mud. The hail began to fall again; mixed with the stinging rain like needles it fell slowly stoning her. Crawling, she scrambled over to the fountain and sat in fetal position under the fountain next to the rose and slowly fell asleep leaning against the moss covered bottom of the fountain nightmares consuming her minds eyes as every night that she slept the did. Her arms fell limp at her sides revealing the scatter of cuts and scars that littered her wrist. This was balance.