Two Lovers

(1002 total words in this text)
(1046 Reads)  

'Two Lovers'

or

'Never to Break these Chains'

Written by Katharina Katt

© Copyright 2000-2007 by Katharina Katt.

This is actually a dream I had and written out to free it from my mind. Its very sad and not actually written for anyone but myself and the man whom I love in the story. However, because I found it so compelling I decided to post it here and share it with the world. Welcome to the land of my dreams.

Disclaimer/Description: Any characters resembling any living or dead individuals is purely coincidental and the author takes no responsibility in comparison with real life situations and individuals. This is a work of pure fiction involving different fantasy types and situations and should not be viewed as otherwise.

Never to Break These Chains
Written: December 18, 2000

Standing at the cliff; he remembered it was her favorite place. He was dressed in black. Black leather pants, and a black turtle neck shirt under his black and red leather jacket. The blood red stripes running up his chest and down his back; giving the wind places to flow over him when he rode his motorcycle. His black steed. His beauty. So sleak and fine. It had taken him to dance apon the knife's edge, and never failed him. He could barely have the stomach to look at it now.

His black hair moved in the wind coming up the cliff.

Her favorite place. The ivy still grew emerald green, the earth bleeding its life before him. The winery vines decorating the hills below. The grapes only beginning to grow. He questioned himself how life could be so vile, to continue when she did not.

The belled anklet tinkled ever so softly when he moved his fingers, the golden charm she had given him, held ever so gently in his firm hand. His lips pressed together, as he looked out onto the valley. The river's water flowed just as it always had. Life went on. He remembered how many times he had brought her here. To this cliff. She loved this place, looking out at the beauty of it. She would stand so peacefully and quiet. The wind would rustle her dark hair; somehow she looked even more beautiful this way.

The cool breeze putting color to her pale cheeks.  And how she would look back at him, noticing him watching her, and how she would smile. She was his angel, his dark angel. His queen; his treasure.

It flashed before his sunglassed view once again, like a horror flashback before his redened eyes. She loved her new bike. Just like his but jet blue, like a streek of lightning come down to earth just to give her a seat to ride. She had painted their names on it, together in love, forever. They rode together, for hours apon hours, and when they stopped they touched. Never to be kept apart. To kiss, to make love, to feel free together from the world. 'Free from her demons' she said sometimes. The demons in her head, and her demons from her past. And they were free together, and then the flash. A split second. A truck going the opposite direction swirved towards them, and in the lightning, the streek was gone. She was gone. He stopped his bike and let it fall to the ground in the ditch beside the trees, the squeeling tires of the truck still sounding as it stopped far behind. He ran to her, her bike a tangled mess against the road. The blue paint of its corpse staining the ground. He found her laying near the trees, moving her arm, trying to turn, but she could not. Her chest pulsed beneath the tight leather jacket. 'God oh god oh god' he screamed in his head, or was it aloud? He could no longer remember. Her shoulder was held together by her jacket only, pieces of tree and rock sticking into her flesh. She took in deep painful breaths, and motioned to her helmet, trying desperatly to open it to feel the fresh mountain air apon her face.

Tears stained his eyes and he helped her off with her helmet and held her in his arms, her blue eyes shining up at him almost glossed over, as if she didn't know him. But she knew him, she smiled her smile. The smile he always loved, and cherrished. She took in another deep trembling breath, blood filling her lungs. Her face went white, ever so white, whiter than she had ever been. She looked up, above him. Past the trees into the sky and said, 'I'm free.' And she smiled. She smiled then, for the last time. As in a dream she had heard his scream. His roar, but it was all in the background. The light, the soft blanket warmth surrounded her. She was gone, in peace, and free.

'Free.' he repeated, looking out apon the valley. Her favorite place to be. He locked her belled ancklet around his hand, keeping the bells in the palm of his hand, so he could feel them. He walked back to his bike. The black steed. It still had a large red scratch across the front of its black paint from the rock it fell apon when he had dropped it. It purred as he started it, putting his helmet back on and backing out of the parking space. It almost seemed to whimper to him, begging for forgiveness for being what it always was.

He made it scream as he pushed it as fast as it would go. Into the countryside. Into the woods. The curves he took apon the knife's edge; feeling the wind along the ground. He gripped his hand grip tight, to feel her bells beneath his black glove. They gingled softly in the wind. All of nature grew around him. The flowers decorated the hill sides, and the trees threw shade apon him from their many leaves.

His black steed screamed again as they turned straight, the road not far from where she had died, but he wasn't stopping. The curve after the spot she had died was a blind curve, and he crossed across the lines. He didn't feel the car, or even see it. He gripped her bells in his hand, and was gone.

The vine still grows from her favorite cliff, and the wine grapes still live on. The leaves of the trees continue on. But these two lovers, shall always be....one.