Beautiful Tragedies

One + The Decisions We Make

One  + The decisions we make.

      The night is cloudless, the sky twinkling with an endless coverage of stars. The light pollution is at a low, meaning I can gaze up and lose myself amongst the lights. Surrounded by people, I'm all alone.

       I look at the bottle tucked, tightly between my hands, the tattered and peeled label, the liquid half consumed, and I decide that I don't want to be here anymore.

      I let the bottle slip from between my hands with an audible sigh. The bottle lands standing up right, but with a sharp clink against the concrete. Slowly, I arise from my seat. Pulling the leather of my dark jacket, closer to my skin.

      It's cold tonight. The icy air is filled with a billowing cloud of wood-smoke, that hangs heavy in amongst the night, and in the lungs of those whom have obliviously inhaled it.

     As I leave the warmth of my seat, I also leave the warmth of the bonfire and slowly the accompanying smell of wood-smoke diminishes. Like most of the things that taunt me in my life, it's a win - lose situation.

     My skin grows colder as I move further from the flame, my body already missing the external warmth it had grown accustom too.

     Although with every sluggish but meaningful step I take away from the fire, I still find myself with warmth. It's just a different kind of warmth, and from a different kind of source. I'm running hot from the inside.

      All of the past liquid that I've consumed on this cold night, burns a fire at the back of my throat. I feel cosy, warm, dizzy... Light even. Better yet, just for once in my life, I feel alive.

      Sadly, feeling light does not counteract feeling groggy. The world spins ever so slightly, my vision never having a chance to focus for more than a few seconds at a time.

     Slowly, I slip away from this night they called mine. A mixture of hurt and giddiness curses through me as I realise that no one is going to notice that I'm leaving.

     But then, I feel a set of eyes fall on me.

      "Flick?"

       I spin around on my heal, in the direction of the girl with the small voice, and press a finger to my lips. Shhhhh.

    Blaze stands only a few feet away, her wide brown eyes watching me with concern and dancing with curiosity.

"Where are you going, you're leaving your own party?" Her words almost sound a whisper against my ears, with a voice so quiet.

     A pencil curl of her hair, dyed the colour of sunlight, falls forward onto her angled face. I watch as shadows from the fire near by cast upon her sharp cheek bones. In a world so tortuous, I forget flame can look beautiful.

I sigh, a sad sigh. My hands nestling into the deepest threads of my pockets, it stops me from chewing my nails that are already gnawed to the skin.

"You know I can't stay, Blaze." The words taste like tears on my lips. "I have to get away from... From this." Before I hurt anyone else, before I hurt myself. The latter never passes my lips. Although, I wish it would.