The Story of Impossible Sorrow

By
Kissing him was all I could think of as my heart beat faded, my pulse slowly became obsolete, and my blood flowed from beneath his fingers. We both knew the second the claws pierced my chest that there was no way I would recover and though I had accepted death with open arms I could not bear the idea of leaving him. My heart skipped a beat everyday of my life as he walked into my line of view and every time he walked out. I loved him and I hoped he knew it. More then that I hoped he felt the same way about me. My life had been a horrible existence and with him by my side I always had a feeling that I could make it through all the tests and all the pain which I never had become accustomed to.
His hand now brushed away the single tear which had fallen down my burned and scraped cheeks. That single tear caused more to follow and soon I was sobbing with my head lying against his shoulder. I knew there was not that much time left, but all I could think of was how good it felt to be in his arms. He was injured as well but his only thoughts were of my well being. His caramel brown hair was ruffled and a scar was forming above his incandescent blue eyes where the claw had almost taken out his line of vision. I closed my eyes and tried not to think about what he was feeling only what was happening here and now; what I was about to do. With the last amount of strength, that I had left, I ran my fingers across his pale tear streaked cheek, leaving a smudge of blood and dirt, then I looped my arm around his neck to pull him down into what would have been my first kiss, but before our lips met in the passionate embrace, I began to fall.
Opening my eyes I looked over my body lying limp in his arms. Though I saw his mouth open, I saw him hold me close to his breast, I saw the pain etched in his face, and I saw his body shake with sobs of sorrow, I couldn’t hear any of it. My world had gone mute and I was grateful, for to hear him cry, or to hear those sobs of pain would have killed me and once was enough.

I felt my body rise and for the first time in my life I felt no pain only the sorrow which gripped my heart as though someone had plunged a knife deep into my soul repeating the process till all that was left was an empty shell. My clothes were still the same, the same blood soaked sweatshirt and the same tattered blue jeans. I had thought I would be wearing something less gruesome as I reached what was supposedly my final destination, but that was the least of my worries. As I rose towards the heavens I knew something was wrong for I could not see the fluffy white clouds or the pearly gates. I could not even see him holding my lifeless body below me. What I saw would have made my heart stop beating if it still thumped in my chest. What I saw was fire, what I heard was evil maniacal laughter, and what I dreaded was true. I was in Hell….





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