Through Clouded Glass

Torn

Heavy raindrops fell in sheets, and I felt my breath catch deep in my lungs as my mind recognized something in the storm. The water seemed to reflect a silhouette, features coming in and out of focus as the light filtered through. I caught glimpses of icy eyes, haunted with emotion. The sounds of the heart beating grew louder with each passing moment. The electricity that hung thick in the air mixed with the adrenaline coursing through my veins, and suddenly I could feel the breeze between my fingers grow heavy, as though the weight of a hand was now in its place. The sounds grew to a roar as the silhouette in the rain came to life. It was so familiar and yet barely there, as though it were the ghost of someone I once knew. The eyes came into complete focus, and they seemed to light up with a smile. 

And then, just like that, it all stopped. The rain washed away the figure. The heartbeat quieted. I felt one last whisper lingering against my neck, soft and frigid. Except this time, it was almost as if I could hear the words. Like the voice in my head had spoken as the voice against my skin.

I am always in your heart.

And with that, the cool air slipped away, no longer intertwined between my fingers. I shivered once more as a bolt of lightning split the sky.

 "Iris," I heard a voice call behind me. I jumped at the noise, whipping around to see Ginger observing my every move.

Time didn't just slow. It came to a screeching halt, as though the world quit turning and our hearts ceased to beat.

I tried to speak, but no words came. The look in Ginger's eyes said it all. I had always thought they were a vibrant green, but now they seemed deeper, more intense. The tears welling against her wispy lashes reflected in her eyes, making them swirl like watercolor on parchment or jade that's wet with rain. 

We had spent many moments in this room. Just her and I. Together. Laughing. Crying. Staying up too late... talking about life... thinking that tomorrow never mattered so long as we had each other...

I remember the first time I met her as clearly as though I live that moment every day of my life. Having friends in the orphanage was like falling in love with the seasons. You found beauty in every gesture, every trick of the light, every secret shared within the passing days. You fell in love with the sights, the smell, the sounds, every little thing that you could possibly observe and take in. And you fell so in love with the moments that you forgot to realize they were passing you by. Every solstice gave way to another equinox, only to rise again another day, and so you stayed still, watching beneath the stars. You became so enchanted by the dreams that reality was a figment of your imagination. One minute you're holding each other's hands as you skip to the playground, and the next you're waving goodbye as they walk away, smiling back at you, holding the hands of their new family. The sun rises and sets, and yet you remain the same while the whole world changes around you, day after day. 

That all changed for me when I was still a very young girl. Though I didn't live in exile at the orphanage, I knew that I was different. Whatever it is that plagues me now has been with me since birth, a demon born of my creation. It isn't something you can get used to, but I'm sure you can imagine how hard that must have been for such a young, fragile child as I to experience. 

You're afraid to look at any reflections because you see strange worlds and unfamiliar faces staring back at you, and within it all you can see the demons hiding behind your gaze. 

You're afraid of your own thoughts because inside you remember things that you couldn't possibly have experienced, you feel as though you know that of one who has lived for thousands of years, one who has experienced the world in all of its wonder, and yet you're barely even alive at all.