TimelessSunset

He stood there, unable to think straight. He had seen it, he definately had seen it, although for a brief moment. The scars. The scars that were carved in her wrist, some still had blood adorning them. But it was HER. The girl who always smiled, who always laughed, who always cheered everyone on. She had two loving parents and a bunch of friends, who simply adored her. He slowly reached for her hand and started pulling her sleeve up, watching her face, as her smile faded away. She didn’t try to stop him, she only looked at him, and for the first time he saw sadness in her eyes. When he looked down on her arm again, all warmth drained from his body. Countless of cuts, some shorter, some longer, sculpted in her pale skin. He gulped and in a swift movement brought the sleeve back down. 

‘Why?’ He asked.

And she told him. She told him of the countless sleepless nights, when her parents were screaming at each other next doors. She told him of the countless tears, as throughout her life she lost the people she loved the most. She told him that she knows how her ‘friends’ talk behind her back, how they betray her and wish to hurt her. She told him about her childhood, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Raped and abused by her cousins, countless times. Told him about the scars and bruises they caused, how they used her over and over again. They would hit her, cut her, burn her. They would threaten her. They still do. His hands curled up in fists and he punched the wall nearby, again and again. She didn’t make a sound. He stopped punching, his knuckles bleeding and she put her fragile palms over them, her fingers colouring red. She told him about her early teens, where she was drugged once, forced into injecting herself. She became addicted, started stealing from her parents to get her dose. She did unspeakable things to get money. Prostitution, she said, before he could ask. She was a mess, unable to stop.

‘How did you stop?’

‘I didn’t.’ She smiled wearily and carried on, ignoring his attempts to question her futher. Being a prostitute at 13 was the worst. She would be treated like trash, she would be used, not always gently. No, rarely gently. She would spend hours on the street, whether it was hot or cold, raining or snowing, until someone decided they wanted her. She would spend most of the nights out, telling her parents she was staying at a friends house. If she came home with hickeys on her neck or a blue eye, she would always lie, saying she tripped or slipped. And her parents told her to be careful next time, as her mother would tend to her bruises. It’s not that they didn’t care, but that they were too gullible. They believed her, rulling out the idea their precious daughter could lie. She told him how she doesn’t want to become a lawyer, as her parents want her to, she wants to be a doctor, travelling around the world, helping those in need. She laughed. It’s cheesy, I know, she said, but I want to make a real difference, make up for the mistakes I have made.

She stopped. 

‘Now you know. Now you know my scars. Now you know I’m not worth anyone’s admiration or friendship.’ A pearl escaped from her eyes, rolling down her cheek.

He finally saw the stories hidden in her eyes, stories that he had been too blind to see before, stories that should’ve been told long time ago. He apologized. She asked why. He said for not noticing her pain before, for not being there to stop the cruel blade from puncturing her skin. For not saving her, when she was drowning in her own blood and tears. He kissed her forehead. For not beating the shit out of those who hurt her. He pulled her sleeves up once again. This time looking at the scars with love and care. He began kissing them, one by one, each time saying sorry that she had been driven to hurt herself. 

She smiled again. It was one of her true smiles, rare these days. She began crying. Not because of her horrible past, but because for the first time, she could see a future.

We know that there is doubt in your minds. Not all of you can see the sky burning. But that’s okay. We do not force ourselves upon you. So you can mock us, you can laugh at us and you can shame us. But don’t hurt us, because there is nothing more powerful than a wounded flame, we could destroy the world you know. The scars long forgotten will open up again, and we will roar, savoring the sweet taste of the power we hold. We will sweep over the earth and destroy everything in our way. Because we can take anything you have the guts to throw at us. But hurt us, and we will not forgive you, without a warning we will demolish the walls you have built around you, not a brick will stay standing. We will then make you watch, as your life burns right before you, everything you love destroyed in our palm. So don’t hurt us. No one likes being hurt. 

If you treasure us, we too will treasure you. We will keep your sky lit, keeping the darkness away from your souls. We will ease your minds, making you forget all your troubles. We will keep burning, for you, forever keeping you safe. Because you’re afraid. You’re afraid of the monsters that lurk in the dark, you are afraid they will climb out of your closets and from under your beds. You’re afraid of what the monsters can do. If we ceased to exist you would panick, locking your doors once again. We were the ones who saved you. We climbed through your windows, when you shut the doors. We scared away your monsters, made the black blood run cold in their veins and their poisoned hearts felt fear. The monsters were nothing, but ants compared to us, they ran. They ran back to the shadows we allowed to stay dark. You need us. You need us to keep the sky lit. 

But one day your sky will darken again. We will have left. We will have moved on, to save the souls of those still in the darkness. We won’t leave because we stopped caring. We will always care. We will leave, because you no longer will need us. You will have grown, no longer afraid of the shadows, knowing the monsters can’t hurt you. Your souls will be pure and your eyes will see the world crystal clearly. You might not even notice that the sky will not be lit anymore, too wrapped up in your own lives. But if you do realise our absence, please do not be afraid. Because you are not alone, we haven’t left you. We are always with you, lingering on your fingertips. So instead of fearing the dark sky, touch the horizon and watch as the sky burns. Burns with the flame you carry within you. And remember us. Remeber that once we lit up your sky. Lit it up with our burning souls.

That’s what I would love to find out. Why, me, a guy who hates the idea of love, has fallen for you heads over heels? Maybe it’s because you’re so damn beautiful. You have those big blue eyes, that have the whole universe hidden in them. You have those desirable cherry red lips that are always curled in a faint smile. Your black hair reaches down to your lovely, wide hips softer than any silk. However, surprisingly, your beauty isn’t what I fell for, nor your perfect model body. Although I must say your very, very womanly features make me quite thirsty.

But then what else could it be? What was it that made my locked heart snap open? I got to say, I do love every part of you. The freckles on your cheeks, which adore your face 365 days a year, that you despise so much. I love the way you laugh off my compliments, but at the same time your cheeks turn slight pink. I simply love the fact that you are that smart shy girl, who perfers a quiet night in, over partying in a club. I also love your ambition of being able to juggle one day, even though you always give up laughing after your third failure. I adore your ability to put your headphones on, forget the whole world and be devoured by music. But most of all, I love your modesty. You never brag or show off about anything, you don’t even realise how beautiful and amazing you are. How other girls wish they were you and guys wish you were theirs. 

However there are things that you do, that I wish you didn’t. Such as, instead of pretending to be strong, I wish you would just lean on my shoulder and cry your pain away. You might be able to fool others, but I know where your smile is forced, your eyes aren’t laughing and your movements are stiff. Only I can hear the way your voice shakes, when something has darkened your blue sky. And you know that I can feel it when something isn’t right, and still you look down and repeat that you’re fine. You keep it in for so long, that when it’s finally too much for you take, all I have to do is pull you in my arms, to make sobs burst out of your mouth. 

Maybe that’s why I fell in love with you. Because I have seen the part of you, that no one else has. Because only in front on me, you drop your mask and show the pain hiding behind your smile. Only my ears hear your whispers of hurt, and only my shoulders carry your burden. 

Or maybe the reason I fell in love with you, is because you’re you. Yeah, yeah, I know that sounds super cheesy, but love doesn’t need a reason. After countless popcorn fights, arguments, laughter, tears, sorrys, thank yous and evenings spent staring at the stars, I began falling. First slowly, one step at a time, then there I was, completely weak in your arms, my heart longing for you.

Or maybe I will never find out the answer to this question, but honestly, I don’t really need to. I will simply gather up the handful of courage I have, buy some white lilies (red roses are way too overrated), knock on your door and try to hit on you with the lamest pick up line I know. And hopefully, instead of slamming the door in my face, you will silently take the flowers, trying so hard not to laugh, before bursting into hysterical laughter. You will make a comment about my red face, invite me in and that will be a start of something new.