The Lost Souls

Who Am I?

Who am I? It's becoming the wrong question to ask. Something is changing inside me, something I can't begin to understand. It's not who I am that is important anymore. It is, what am I becoming? I don't know the answer. The answer won't come till I find it, it hides in a special spot, easy to miss and hard to attain. I sigh, suddenly things have become so complex in a matter of a few weeks, I'm in the middle of something bigger than I am.

I curl up in bed, its night and it's surprisingly quiet. The sky is beautiful, it's not clouded and now I can appreciate a deep purple, almost black, covering what rests above me. I lie on the other end of my bed, so the window is level to my eyes, so I can stare out of the window and watch to see how long it will stay this way. Its peculiar and rare, something I have never seen before or maybe something I was too ignorant to notice. Who knows?

Turns out I did leave him a pile of candles on his doorstep, it was eating at me. I even threw in cans of soup and a loaf of bread. I just didn't like the idea of sitting in a house, decorated in pitch black with only a dog for company, maybe it bothered me more than it should have. Who knows? Either way, I did it. Can't regret it now.

As I stare at the indigo-turning sky, I imagine what the rest of his life is like. He must be wealthy, seems healthy. There's something stubborn about him, he challenges me. There's this persuasiveness, he makes me want something that seems out of my reach. He makes it seem to linger, just a little way off my grasp and if I reached just a little further, I'd be able to pull it out of the abyss and claim it as mine. Something golden like the Sun, hope-filled and promising, something so bright it would hurt your eyes. Something dangerously blinding yet beautiful. To hold with care, an oath to always keep it safe with clean hands.

My blanket is soft, I grasp it with both hands, it wraps tight around me. The light around me is to the dimness that it almost becomes romantic, a soft glow from a dozen candles, the offspring of the Sun. The temperature has dropped and the chill is felt at my fingertips every time I touch my skin with them. I shiver, wishing I had something warm next to me. I immediately think of him because he is the warmest thing in probably the whole of Sin. My cheeks feel warm and I try to savour it because I'm as cold as my mind flits over the moment in the woods when he grabbed my wrist.

A tingly feeling trembles into the pit of my stomach and I shiver more, yet in a different way. It suddenly gets a little too stuffy under the blanket, I free one leg twisting it around the blanket and cuddling it tighter, blowing out the candle next to me. I feel restless, there is something my sub consciousness knows that I don't know just yet and it bothers me. Does it relate to this feeling? Does it explain it? I sigh. As if I didn't have enough problems and now the parts of me I rely on aren't working properly. What is this feeling? Can I even put a name on to it? I feel like if I tried, I couldn't put justice into it. There wouldn't be enough words to describe it. I don't want to give it a name, I don't want to make it more real. So I'll leave it unsaid, till I'm ready to face it or till it disappears.

Darker thoughts filter into my ears, the ones that I want to avoid more than confused feelings. That thing. What was it? What did it want from me? It was the colour of 2am, blacker than night, even the trees couldn't match its darkness. It reeked of evil. Something you'd run away from in an instant. It looks like all my fears built into a figure. But not a person, it was definitely not a person. It just stared, a black hood covering its head and a cloak to its body. It looked straight at me, took a judgement and used it against me. What is it judging me on? That I held hands with him? I've never seen a rule that says a Virtue cannot be with a Sinner but that doesn't mean there isn't one. No one had to make up that rule, because we're segregated, on two different lands. Hot and cold. The Sun and the moon.

The only way I can make sense of it is that I did something wrong by taking his hand. I started something. Like a thread that clears in the air, bright red and each strand tightly woven into another. It twists and coils, dragging me in, pulling me out. Crimson coloured, shoots out of me like it's tied to an arrow, leading to something, or maybe someone?

I'm creating another Sin, a bad one. Sins make you suffer, the more I sin I will suffer. It's why I live quietly, to avoid the pain of sin. Being a Sinner is like killing yourself, it's unbearably painful. To live every day in Hell on Earth...it makes the point of living meaningless. Why am I alive if I'm only to suffer from my own mistakes over and over again? I'm at the fork in a road. Getting close to a Virtue is a Sin, and if he loses himself because of me, it's a bigger sin. I will suffer for it. But at the same time, what he promises, could take it all away.

"Why the hell did you have to come here?" I mutter, hopelessly. I don't think I'll ever understand it. And maybe I'm missing the point by trying to. I need someone to guide me. I can't make these kinds of choices on my own. This is Sin, people don't help each other, I'm on my own. I have to be brave, choose the best option and stick with it.

I get out of bed and sit up; I straighten a candle on my bed, staring at the almond shape of the flame which stems from a blackened wick. How it burns proudly despite the threat of an open window. Why can't I be like that? Brave, powerful, reliable. I clasp my hands around it, not so that it will burn me, but so that it can warm my fingers. I carefully move my hands away from it after a while, pacing across my room.

My gown lifts slightly from a sudden wind, what colour it used to be is hard to tell, it's too faded and washed. Not even sure if this colour has a name. I know the material though, lace. It's comfortable on my skin, I could dance in it if I knew how to. I drift to the window, crossing my arms over each other on the ledge and taking in the vast open air. The moon is low, white and beautiful. Mist dances around it. It's so mysterious yet it seems to figure me out in an instant.

"What do I do?" I whisper, a shiver from the cold running down my spine and shaking me up under my skin. Dots of Goosebumps decorate my skin. I know it won't give me an answer, not a spoken one at least. It just seems to understand, the way it stands above me, watching and knowing everything.

The clouds that swam around it drift off and it seems to glow, not at me but somewhere else near me. I follow its gaze to find myself looking at where another person looks at the moon in the same appreciative way I do. I don't question it, I just stare at him. I see how my body responds to seeing him.

He lifts his head and the moon seems to bathe him in its glow. Makes his hair lighter and I wonder if changes the colour of his eyes. I stare shamelessly, watching the sharpness of his chin as he looks upwards. It's nearly 2am, its late, I wonder why he is up so late. I've seen the moon a hundred times, I haven't seen him like this yet. Watching from a distance.

A feeling stirs within me; I put my palm on my stomach hoping it'll settle. But it grows, defiantly. I frown, a wind wracks my body. It flips like a disc, a coil twists inside me. I can't leave it unsaid. It won't be left unsaid; it's not something I have control over. I sigh, troubled, confused and lost. Afraid to let it burst out of me. Afraid it won't be accepted, it'll settle to the floor like a dead leaf, forgotten.

I watch him; he breaks off his connection with the moon's glow to make one with me. Now we're in a private bubble, warm and safe. It suddenly doesn't feel cold anymore. I wonder how clearly he can see me at this L-shaped angle. I wish I could be closer, I wish I could say something. The wind tries to break my bubble but it can't. This bubble is too powerful, too secure. My cheeks feel hot, I wonder if his ears are pink.

The candle I gave him is by his side. From here it looks like he's smiling, but I can't be sure since his eyes look like two black dots. I get an idea. If I can hardly make him out from this distance, he can't make me out. No one will know I did it. So I smile back. Small, just a hint of one but that's all I'm capable of. I just want to try it. It feels unfamiliar on my face, I wonder if it looks more like a grimace. Who cares? Only I'll ever know if I did this.

What is wrong with me? Why can't I stop looking at him? My insides feel warm. He rests his chin on his arms, still gazing in my direction but I can't be sure he's looking at me anymore. I shouldn't be feeling like this. It's probably a crime to feel this away about someone like Liam. Liam Noah Anderson. The name that you couldn't forget even if you tried. It lingers in the air. It holds influence over me.

Lying is another crime, and I can't lie to myself anymore. I'm in love with him.