'Love has no age, no limit; and no death,' - John Galsworthy.
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- warning - This is not for the weak souls. Continue at your own risk. __________
TO ME THE WORLD IS SHAKING. The ground crumbles beneath my feet as I run in hysteria through the wilderness. Everything is a blur of whimpers and cries which could just as well be mine as well the nature's that fiercely tries to inhale me and prevent me from getting to him.
He's out there, and I'm here desperate to find him.
I am asphyxiating, there is no other word for it as I tear through the woods blindly. Here there is no trail, no sign of others, but yet somehow I know this is the way.
To him.
I have to find him. I have to let him save me. Help me breathe since I am not able to do it on my own. He needs to be okay. He needs to be.
I can't breathe. Suffocated by fear and anguish I keep moving forward. I push forward, leaping over stubs and fallen trees, and skidding over the rocky surface of the forest ground.
Every molecule of the wild are at odds with me, adamant on keeping me from my destination. The ground desperately pulls at me like quicksand, but I don't give in.
I have to move forward, and so I do.
Through the thicker part of the woods jumping over the hidden traps and snares Xavier has so skillfully placed.
Xavier...
"Xavier!" My voice appears like a ragged scream. Mortified, scared and daunting all at the same time. It tears at my throat, but it is nothing compared to the torture my heart is going through.
"Xavier!" I cry out again and again, one more shrilly and panicky than the other.
Then my legs stop, shakingly buckling underneath me as the trees break apart, and I let out a painful mewl of despair.
My mind can't seem to distinguish fear from darkness. I'm clouded, gasping for the air that will not come whilst darkness seeps through the woods, erasing every possible path except for one.
The one right in front of me. The one it doesn't want me to go down.
Sobbing I claw at the trees that try to hold me back, begging me to stay put instead of moving forward into the clearing, but they too are tortures, cold, wet, and splattered by bloodstains with heavy droplets sprinkled and dropping from their lush leaves. Persistently holding me back, they linger like a warning of me not surviving what lies in front of me.
"Xavier!" My voice cracks as I shred my clothes desperate to move forward despite nature's vehement warning and fall next to his inert self.
Rifts and cuts are scattered along my hands which appear like ghostly spiders as they dig themselves into the torn fabric of his shirt, before they are engulfed by liquid red.
