Running along a deserted beach a young girl, a diary in her hand, was playing with the waves looking pensive. The gaze losing itself towards the horizon, the wind playing in her hair and twirling her white dress; the twilight approaching its end formed a magnificent picture that only the present moment could count.
But behind this image was an infinite gloom, an endless loneliness. As solitude was her greatest friend, the void was her refuge and the shadow was her path. This bluish immensity seemed to make fun of her and yet it soothed her. Like the sea, she was also infinite and indescribable. Nobody knew her and she did not try to interact with anyone.
She did not belong to the world; the world did not interest her. She was a self-effacing, cold and distant person. She was lonely. She loved winter because the cold suited her well. The icy expanse, the danger, the sense of death; it's all part of this girl. She exuded the density of solitude. However, this did not bother her, on the contrary she lived it well and she loved it.
At least, that was what it showed. With the appearance of an angel, this girl must be approached with caution, as she can trouble you to the point of leaving a great void in your life. Yes, solitude followed her and contaminated those around her. A poison for anyone who dared approach it. That is how she felt, free and independent. Far from the world, far from people, far from pain and close to herself, her inner peace.
As night fell, she walked slowly along the same beach. The stars emerged one by one, adorning the somber sky, giving it a cheerful look. The faint moonlight at the beginning of the month cast its reflections on the young girl, giving her a ghostly appearance. Fearlessly she continued her progression without precise goal keeping the same expression.
However, if you observe carefully, in this weak gleam of the night, you would see that she was smiling. She smiled at nightfall; her way of welcoming it. Austerity, melancholy, shadow, darkness, fear, authority, power, mystery, cold; such are the characteristics of the night. Just like her. The night became her faithful companion.Though, years ago, she was just a different person. Twelve years ago…