Rogue Undecided

.:~Chapter Twenty-Seven~:.

You want me to be completely honest?
I, always, have been afraid of love. To slow dance with bliss and the prevailing chance of complete misery. Knowing that, it will either save me or it will cripple me.
For if there is one thing beautiful in this crumbling world: it is love.
Is the curling of souls.
But god, if there is one thing horrific in it, too, then it is most surely loving something with your entirety, only to have it all vanish
away within the hint
of a second.

-Christopher Poindexter

__________

It's sick, really, how life does this to us.

It's almost like it wants us to break down, to give up. It wants to see us fail in ever possible way, and shows us no mercy as it continues to spit fire in our direction.

We fight. God, we fight, but it's never enough. The fire becomes too strong, and our endurance weaker and weaker. We scream, thrash, claw, kick. We beg and pray.

But the flame slithers up our legs, curls its fingers around our throats, and consumes us in a fiery pit of destruction.

We burn until nothing but our ashes remain, pity and depression lingering in our dying souls as we convince ourselves that we can't recover.

And we silently watch as the flames trickle to its next victim, destroying them in the same way as it did us.

That is what life is; what living is.

It's the first step in dying.

Dying is always the last chapter. It's always the easiest, quickest, simplest chapter in the book.

Making your way to that chapter, however, is when the fight really takes place.

Dying is easy.

Living, is the hard part.

No matter how hard you try to deny it, the flames will come for you, and everything you love will turn to ash. There's no escaping it. The flames will swallow you until you're nothing but a memory, and then it will move on without so much as a glance back.

That's just how life works.

~*~

I was burning.

That is the only way I know how to describe the feeling within me.

It was like fire ran through my veins at rapid speed, increasing in temperature every couple of seconds. My eyes watered and my heart clenched painfully in my chest as I found it hard to breath.

I was burning from the inside out, yet ironically enough, my hands were like ice as my shaking fingers clutched onto the bloody bandages I removed from Thayer's back.

Is this what it feels like to die?

Looking down at the broken boy that laid before me, I realized that it did.

I was dying without him.

"We match now." I spit, trailing my fingers down the length of his injury. His whole body was burning up, a side effect of the wolfsbane. "How romantic."

A timid knock sounded from the door, and a small nurse came into the room. The sight of another person had me running in front of Thayer's body, trying to shield him from view. It didn't help that she was a female, either.

"Leave!" I roared as I grabbed Thayer's hand possessively. No one was to see him in this state.

"I-I just came to h-help clean his wounds." The young nurse made the mistake of lifting her gaze from the ground to meet my burning golden eyes.