Imaginations May Go Wild | ✔

Roxen

♪ Cancer Cover- Twenty One Pilots ♪

Hazel's POV

-I enter the place silently and look around. It's dark. Black. The colour of riddles and mysteries. Closing my eyes and biting my lower lip, I slowly count to ten in my heart and open my eyes again. Black? No wait...

I see. I see a spot of colour striving to survive in the darkness. The golden flame sways drunkenly and enlightens the night. Holding my breath, I walk towards it and just as I'm about to reach it, I notice another and then another, taking birth amidst all the mysteries. My eyes span the numerous candles burning around me slowly, their flames dancing in a drugged silence and just when I think of the silence, it is magically rippled by a lovely symphony as I hear a violin being played somewhere behind the curtains. It feels like something beautifully toxic is about to cross my paths.

It seems as if my thoughts are being resonated in the melody filling the air because just when I think of beautiful toxications, I see it. A gleam of silver. His eyes.

Oh what I could have given to look in those silver oceans once more...and here they are...crashing drunkenly across the edges of my sanity, drawing out the remnants of air left in my poor lungs.

My poor lungs that don't seem to hold enough air nowadays.

I can hear his drugged voice entering my disarrayed system..

"I wrote you those letters. It was me. It was always me."

And no matter how hard I try to respond back, I feel like I'm grounded and unable to move because I can't believe he's in front of me, his light hair gracing his forehead as candle light draws beautiful patterns across his way too perfect features.

Features I've memorised..but never touched.

Holding my breath in anticipation, I raise my fragile finger to caress his jaw line but the moment I touch it, it ripples, as if he is a shadow in a silent peaceful lake. Slowly, and very slowly, he fades away into thin air and takes away my silver along.

Panic builds in my chest as the flames around me mould into a great red flame that seems to get brighter and brighter. I bite my lip for his absence brings a gush of agony to my heart. I try to find solace in the melodies but just when I pay attention, they break down. From symphonies to little notes until they convert to a strange...

Beep. Beep. Beep.-

My head hurts. Groaning in pain, I open my eyes. Grey. The colour of confusions. Closing my eyes in agony, I let out a cry for help. In no time, hands are over me and I hear a lot of people fussing over my body that feels like it's no more. Strange voices fill my head as I drown into the abyss of unconsciousness.

A large lapse of wait gets over as I try to open my eyes once again. White. The colour of clarity.

White which is accompanied by a face. A face that I can recognise in a large crowd of people on a New York street.

The way too pale face of my mom.

"Hazel, my child...," I hear her broken voice as tears stream down her face. "You're okay." She whispers.

Faintly, a memory of crashing cars crosses my mind and I remember his voice resonating my name over and over...

"Roxen..," My voice comes out raspy and hollow. It doesn't sound like me at all.

Fall. A soft touch of winter plays in the light breeze of Fall. If we crane our neck and look up at the withering leaves with fading colours clinging on to the dry twigs for their lives, we notice this one dry leaf that's crumpled like an old paper lying in a dusbin, waiting to be wasted away..