Northern_Lights_2016

52 Never was an ill word spoken to the other. Yet things never came together. They were together a lot yet neither acknowledged the other’s true feelings. They were just there, sharing an existence. He found these moments the most pleasing. The silent, warm hearted moments of having someone else care that you existed. That’s all he ever asked for. That, and a little touch. He stood on this bridge looking down. There wasn’t really anything left anymore. His passion and hatred lived out, his love crippled and dead, what else was there? One more step could be the end. It came to his mind, a night of con- solation. A night of hard hearts and things finally said out loud. Yet not a thing came of it. Life just continued, friendship stayed put. He took that step. The dreams in which we fall are of great importance. They build up everything and then right before everything ends up crumbling, we are awoken, ripped out of our seemingly hopeless fate. This should teach us something. The step was a long one. Like the stride of a race winner, he thrust his foot out over the abyss and let himself fall. He fell much like the car had, completely still, null of any noise or movement. But as he plummeted, a sound interrupt- ed. A sound familiar to him but unrecognizable. So he kept falling and the noise got louder and louder, its moans and falls ever so clear in his head. Almost to the ground, the noise was excruciatingly painful throughout his whole body. So he opened his eyes. The area was loud. Countless engines and equipment roaring out their subtle battle cries around him. Lights flash- ing. He was confused. Men talking. There was no more silence, only chaos, as there should be. The pain was in his head. In his arm. Sensation was just now being restored throughout his body. He found himself pinned. Not uncomfortably but enough to where he was stuck. Everything ached, except for his right hand. To his right sat his love, who somberly slept, practically unscathed. In her hand, was his.