You see they always remember

[impy]

  The sky overhead is a nasty shade of cold, winter grey and she catches sight of it every so often as she runs through the woods. The trees here are all dead. She'd tried asking her mother what killed them all, but she'd been waved away. Her mother has always been very busy, but lately she's impossible to talk to, even on a good day.
  And so she runs to keep the thoughts at bay.
  Branches reach out for her, trying to grab her and hold her back. Or maybe they merely want to whisper their story in her ear. She's not sure, but she doesn't want to find out the hard way. And so she runs.
  Her lungs are on fire and she's gasping for breath. She's slowing down just as she's entered the heart of the massacre. Figures, she thinks as tiny explosions of black fireworks dance in her vision. God, what she wouldn't give for a glass, no, a pitcher of something to drink.
  The clouds overhead hear her prayers and the sky splits wide open the second she falls to the ground.
  Tiny twigs clamor for her hair as she lies on the ground. The rain is so cold; it's like a thousand tiny icicles are piercing her skin until she's completely numb from the outside. Too bad her lungs are still screaming for air and no matter how much she gasps, she can't seem to find enough.
  I think I'm dying.
  She knows she's not, but God, it feels like she might come damn close. She closes her eyes and prays once more for the world to slow to a halt.
  The gods have already granted one wish. She's not about to get a second one today.

  His green eyes glare at her and not even staring at the dull white circle that used to be the sun can burn the memory from her mind. His hands are bright red. She's not sure the stain will ever fade, either from her memory or from his skin. His mouth moves in a silent scream. Not of terror, but of anger and frustration, the veins on his neck bulging.
  He could kill her. He has the power, the ability, and most of all the desire. Best of all, he's managed to blind everyone else to the horrors that lurk in his unnaturally dull eyes. No one else can see that the light her mother frequently alludes to isn't so much passion, as it is madness. His eyes don't light up when her mother enters the room because he's so infatuated with her. No, she's sure that what he sees is something much darker. He sees the end of her life as he steals it away, corrupting everything she stood for.
  As her blood lies in a pool on the floor, as her body cools in the grave he sees fit to throw her in without another thought [if she's lucky], he will move on to her legacy. He will corrupt everything she's ever stood for; he will forever taint her memory.

  And so she ran.

  The rain has numbed her inside as well as out by now. Her breath is no longer visible and for a moment she thinks she's as grey and dark as her surroundings. The trees have moved closer as she slept.
  Maybe he killed them and they want revenge. But since he will never step foot in their territory again, they will settle for her blood until he spills her mother's. The trees can wait.
  Her body twitches and spasms as she tries to sit up. The mud has slid between her fingers, binding her to the ground. There's a puddle of ice at her feet and every few seconds her leg cramps.
  She can't close her eyes for fear of seeing his face again, so she stares straight up at the sky.

  The trees sway and bend in the wind above her. Between tiny fits of agony she can't help but think they're dancing. Once upon a time she would have believed that and she would have danced with them.
  Once upon a time she would have believed that her happily ever would triumph over the visions in her head.
  That's the price you pay for growing older, she figures.
  Still, it would be nice if she could know for sure whether the trees were trying to warn her or if they were helping to kill her.

  She sleeps.

  A flurry of twigs scratch her face, spreading the mud from her hair across her pale face. A blanket of dead leaves finds its way to her frame and settles down for a late afternoon nap.
  The trees stand guard as two black horses, complete with horsemen, ride through the heart of their sorrow looking for a girl who knows too much. What they find is nothing more than a dead forest that has claimed too many lives to count. They do not stop to poke through the leaves, afraid of what they might find. They know full well the man they work for. They know what he's capable of and they know where he disposes of what's no longer useful to him. They know what's killed this place, and so they ride onward. They never stop to wonder if the trees are dancing or watching. They're much more afraid of him.
  Too afraid too look to closely at the world he's created.

  She wakes to the sound of fading thunder. The branches overhead wave in the breeze and for a moment she thinks they are celebrating.


  The trees remember two small girls winding their way through their forest. The girls are solemn, dressed all in black and their hearts broken. The trees knew that little girls should smile and laugh, that they should twirl in circles so that their skirts, if they wore any, spun out in a rainbow kaleidoscope. They should not be tripping through the woods on their way to a new home, filled with people they do not know, without their parents to comfort them.
  The trees had a plan. So they lured the girls, those broken girls, to the heart of the forest. Butterflies in every hue filled the air, brushing against those tear-streaked cheeks, drying their tears. Birds of every variety flew overhead, singing every happy song they knew. Tiny, furry creatures crept out of hiding to enchant those girls, to welcome them home.
  They promised to look after these girls, recognizing that fate had intervened once in their life and would continue to do so in the future. They were marked.
  So the trees marked them as well.
  And the trees remembered.

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[saintsavin.livejournal.com]

OHMIGOD! Icon love XD.