Weeping Willow (Part Two)

WEEPING WILLOW

(PART TWO)

by

Sandra Madera

WATTPAD EDITION

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PUBLISHED BY

SandraMadera.com

Weeping Willow

Copyright © 2011 by Sandra Madera

Ebook Edition License Notes

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NALIN:

I had awakened from a deep sleep, feeling a sense of dread that I haven't felt in a long time. Fidgeting with my human sleepwear, I glanced beside me, noticing the bed was empty.

"Willow?" I called, momentarily looking down at my arm to see that my wound had healed completely. Tracing my hand over that portion of my arm, the only thing that would have indicated that I had actually been injured was a sliver of darkened skin which would dissipate over time.

"Willow?" I called again, sitting up in bed.

When she didn't respond, I rose to my feet, feeling my strength renewed as this place was closer to my realm than the human Earth. I crossed the room and knocked on the bathroom door. When there was no response, I reached for the knob, pushing the door open and letting it hit the wall with a thump.

Empty.

I turned around, tracing every object in the room with my eyes. It took a second for me to register that she was gone.

My mind raced with all the possibilities of what could have happened. Could my revelations have been too much for her mind to take? Could she have only pretended to believe in my words?

Then my eyes drifted to my reflection in the standing mirror. My appearance had changed during my sleep to that of my true self. I had masked my appearance and constructed a facade that I felt would have been the most pleasing to Willow. However, during my slumber, I could barely hold onto such facades. My real form must have frightened her away.

I glared at my reflection, suddenly feeling anger rise within me. I hated my white hair... and pale skin. I hated my gray eyes. I despised everything about myself.

Needing to expend my negative energy, I found myself looking for something to break. In the midst of my fury, I flipped over the mirror, shattering the glass and scattering the pieces at my feet. Feeling the rage build inside of me, I swept my arm over the table top, hurling all of my books onto the floor. Picking the table up as if it weighed nothing, I threw it across the room, breaking a leg off and cracking it's flat surface down the middle.

No matter what I did or how many things I broke, the anger didn't leave me. Instead, it grew painfully into a large void in the middle of my chest. I couldn't help but feel as if this was the fate I was entitled to. I was alone as I was always meant to be.

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WILLOW:

"My name is Willow," I chanted, cradling myself. "Willow. Willow is my name."

There are few times in a person's life where an audible snap can be heard when the mind can no longer cope with reality. For me, this was one of those times.