The Pond

It was such a strikingly beautiful day.

Fingers lightly interlocked we strolled to a destination.

We laughed, we enjoyed and we were present.

There was an air of something sweet, almost a perfection per se. 

The surprise to her would be something great and I simply could not wait to see the look on her face.

This stroll would be healing and a final hurdle we would cross together. 

As we came upon the quiet pond, the look of sheer curiosity dawned on her face. Such a beautiful face if is to look upon.

She looked around her, as if the surprise would unveil itself. The longer I waited, the greater her anticipation heightened, thus the greater the revelation would be for her. Sheer excitement now prominent upon her face. 

My knuckles struck her face once fiercely, equivalent for the blow she first gave to my heart so long ago. If only I could capture the look of her thoughts shifting on her face as recompense for the hurt that I have already sustained. 

I struck her a second time for accepting my forgiveness as a weakness and preying upon it maliciously. Blood spattered outward in a delicate spray, just as a summer wind picks up newly seeded life to spread beauty about. The blood landed on an autumn canvass of dead leaves and dried beauty that crackled to perfection not long ago. 

With that, I delicately dragged my love to the pond. Struggling and gasping yet I lovingly lowered her to the surface of the water. How else could I have handled her but with absolute care? The contradiction of violence and adoration was reflective of the same tormenting way she had handled my heart all of these years. In that moment I gazed upon and savored the look of disbelief upon her face. I would need it later to relinquish the concern I was sure to have later; the one where I didn't inflict enough pain to make us even.

Her eyes widened as she reactively shook her head and I lowered her face below the surface. Her tears, now one with her fear all now deepening within the pond. 

The surface delicately wisped the blood from her cheeks in waves of watery sheets as her face continued to pale. Her body, now returning the earth and bringing her energy home. 

There were fighting screams, muffled by water. She was there, in front of me yet the screams resounded in a way that was distant. It rang true; even the most genuine of emotion from her would surely have to come from a place distant from her own heart. 

As the last convulsion shot through her limbs, she returned to innocence. There was no brow to misrepresent the emptiness behind it; her expression and thoughts now reconciled, finally. 

I restored her to the beauty she was always capable of. I returned her to a state where she can still be appreciated and adored. 

I left her body where I left the love I had for her; in a somber, chilling place from which there was no return. 

It was such a strikingly beautiful day.