The sound of bare feet sloshing through the puddles was nonexistent. Rain drizzled from the sky as a cloaked figure seemed to float through the dimly lit streets. The thin cloth hung loose from slouched shoulders, and gloomy branches swayed heavily, bare of any fruit, of any leaves, of any life. The glassy eyes seemed broken and permanently tinged with red, and the small figure was shadowed in the darkness, the midst of the night...
"Pitter-patter, pitter.." The blue-tinged lips parted and trembled. "I can't feel the winter's air..." Looking upwards, her hood fell back as the wind howled in her face. "Where have the lights gone..?"
The girl had a small, pale face, framed by curly locks void of their usual golden luster. Clamping her eyes shut, she buried her face in her hands for a few moments as she began to walk down the empty street again, muttering to herself.
Step by step, she grew closer and closer to her destination —a compact little home that was dimly lit, though its faint glow offered no warmth to soothe any soul. The girl froze for a moment, her eyes wide as the house flooded her mind with memories. Her heart sunk as a wave of pain rose within her. Releasing her breath, she desperately sought the icy air that her throat declined, deeming it useless. There was nothing to help her with the routine, the steady heaves of air her lungs would have taken as she entered the house head first.
The first word that hit her was 'empty.'
The weak glow of the lamp drew her eyes to the coffee table. The creamy lacy cloth that was so delicate before lay limp on the floor, stained by a dark red liquid —too thin and of a different shade than blood, but eerie nonetheless. The girl took a step forth, only to feel a faint sharpness beneath her foot. Crouching down, she looked at the shards which caressed no cuts into her foot, despite their thick and jagged edges. The majority of the bottle lay intact, rolled into the feet of the table as its fall was too short to destroy it completely -but just enough to render it useless. Its contents lay coldly on the hardwood floor, leaving nothing for it to soak into, nowhere else for it to disperse to.
The girl lightly put her hand at the tip of the table, dragging her eyes towards the drapes torn down from the windows, and began to hear a crescendo of weeping and heavy breathing. Slipping out of her cloak, she let it fall to the ground soundlessly as she made her way down the hallway, its tacks void of any pictures to brighten the scene.
"Leah..." the voice sobbed. A figure larger than the girl's was hunched over by the side of the bed, its lavender folds scrunched up against her torso. "I...I need you..." Her breathing grew ever so erratic and she couldn't catch her breath, keeling over and continuing to cry.
"Oh Luce...please don't cry..." The girl quickly swooped down and tried to wrap her arms around the poor girl, but each time she tried it was as if Lucille continued slipping further and further from her reach.
"I can't take this anymore!" She whimpered. "Not alone..."
"I'm sorry that I can't help you..." She extended her fingers to stroke the girl's long, dark strands of hair, but upon realizing that she could not offer any comfort, she fell back onto her knees, her heart still yet tightened, only able to watch as the girl slowly shattered in front of her.
"Why did you have to..." She cut herself short, expecting no response.
The girls' faces mirrored each others as they overflew with shared anguish.
The pale locks of the small girl began to quiver along as she realized the dampness of her face that began to drip onto the floor, and she let out a low whisper.
"Why is it that only my tears take form here, even though I'm already dead?