Both blonde-haired youth and horse-tailed man watch as she dies inside, glasses strewn across
The labyrinth of woods is dark and enigmatic, the night far too crisp for summer, not unlike

the first whisperings of Winter.

A harsh and rich scent powders the very air with sensual hints of Lily and Jasmine, the

darkness turns to the deepest ebony, except for one brush of light against the shadowed

canvas.

Under grove trees that rise higher than the eye can ever dare to see, a small fire burns

mutely, with the occasional sound of the twigs popping and crackling as they turn to ashes.

Three figures sit around the fire, their crudely made camp (a series of bedrolls and

blankets) a little ways behind them. In the set of their frames, you see their weariness and

the weight they hold upon the atlases of their minds.

Evergreen leaves, whose color never dissipates, sway in the non-existent wind.

¨Miro siempre al cielo y con ansia espero que-¨

The butter-scotched haired youth slumps heavily against the carcass of a felled trunk, legs

stretched out in front of him, his mud encrusted boots laid out for the fire to warm.

A half finished bottle of whisky rests between his thighs, and copper irises are layered with

weariness.

There is blood all over his hands, and cartilage pokes out from a broken knuckle.

¨-Que el rocío caiga gota a gota en mi piel

Luego esperó al cielo

...Y le pido por favor-¨

There are tears leaking from the two wet caverns behind rimmed spectacles, the dilation of her

pupils so wide that her eyes could be mistaken as blank slabs of corroded onyx.

Long violet-brown hair is mussed and ragged, tips coated in the stench of death as her head

hangs loosely from a boneless neck. She is sprawled like a cordless mannequin on the ground,

with rusted armor clinging to her broad hipped frame.

She sings brokenly with a shuddering and hoarse voice.

¨-Que me enciende el fuego imprescindible del amor¨

At the base of a tree, hunched upon gnarled and insect infested roots, is a shadow of a man at the

peak of his physical age, dark brown hair swept up in a horsetail while a single braid hangs

free. Scars write thick lines of pale skin over his body, becoming more in number as they travel

down his arms towards his fingers, veins popping from the epidermis like fat blue and green
worms.

A single deep line is etched from cheek to lip.

¨Tuuuuu o la sencillez…

Eeeeeres mi felicidad¨

All of them are covered from head to toe in blood.

¨Can we talk?¨, the youth finally rasps when he fears that the tension will crush him, looking at

the scarred man for a sign of consent.

He receives no answer.

¨Corro corro corro por el prado y me entrego a las flores-¨

¨...Fine then, I’ll talk. What in the hells was that?¨. His brow scrunches when he is still ignored,

and then breathes a heavy sigh, hard and rough with frustration.

¨Arough¨.

Finally, there is movement from the hunched figure, the single action of rolling his eyes to meet

the angered and worried gaze of the youth. They stare at eachother for a while.

¨-El amor me nace en mis paisajes interiores...¨

¨Why did you do it?¨.

The horse-tailed man’s sage irises become guarded and boiling, his marred lips drooping in the

corners.

¨That is none of your business¨.

Eyes widening and eyebrows setting into a dangerous slant, he snaps.

¨You bet your poor sorry arse it is, you ingrate!¨

The woman stops between mid-lyric, looking to the blonde with a helpless fragility.

She turns away and continues to sing, a bit louder this time.

¨Voy siguiendo río hasta cruce al fin su meta

Brilla entre sus aguas, el color de los planetas¨

¨You run into a warzone with not a smidge of armor on you, a knife in hand, and you thought

you’d leave unscathed? Look at you!¨

The youth is on his feet, bottle flung away to the side, a hand waving towards the blood

coating the brunette’s clothes and skin, dying him a sinister red in the firelight.

¨I have let you wallow, let you get yourself piss drunk and mourn in solitude because you asked

me, and I’ve listened. And now you waste it all for this? To prove a point to some bloody

abstract thing as Fate that you refuse to be used? Are you mad?!¨.

¨I said it is none of your business, Micca¨

The youth snorts derogatively.

¨Its none of my business when you turn straighter than a stick¨ .

A vein throbs visibly on the brunette’s temple.

¨Ya ta tara ra ya ta tara ra ahuuu ahuuuuu-¨

¨Quiet¨.

The man starts to slowly unwind from the roots, his muscles bunching and tightening

as his scowl turns into a murderous glower, his teeth bared as he inhales through them.

The youth’s hands turn to fists, the cartilage sliding out sickly from the torn skin. Transparent

and red fluid dribbles down to the foliage.

The woman presses her palms to her ears and starts to rock, the oxidized metal creaking.

She begins to cry.

¨No, you shut up and listen! Its been 7 years. 7 bloody years and you're still as broken as you

were the day you knew. We have done nothing but try and help, comfort you, for the Fates sake,

we’ve attempted to consort you!¨

¨LUEGO VUELVO A CASA Y ME SIENTO FRENTE AL FUEGO

DIBUJANDO EL AIRE, DIBUJANDO EL AIRE
CON EL TINTE DE MIS SUE?OS¨

¨When are you going to realize that you are not going to get over this? It wasn't going to ever

heal, nor will it ever! And do you know why?¨    

¨I said shut up!¨.

The woman rocks faster and begins to yell.

¨LUEGO TUS CARICIAS,

QUE NO QUIERO QUE ME FALTEN-¨

They've gravitated toward one another, stalking each other like rabid animals from across the

flames, their eyes wild and thirsty for violence.

The bespectacled one continues to rock and sing, her eyes screwed shut.

¨-Because you don’t want to let him go!¨

¨-Y ACABAR EL D?A, 

Y ACABAR EL D?A ADORMECIDO EN CUALQUIER PARTE!¨

¨SHUT UP! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE AND SHUT UP!¨

¨Why should I, when you’ve gone off and tried to kill yourself!¨

¨PARA!¨

They both pause, their fists balanced perfectly in mid-air, shock and confusion the only thing

stopping them from coming to blows.

Both look down at the woman, who has now stopped rocking and singing, her scream still shrill

and ringing in the men’s ears.

They see her salty tears running dirty tracks down her flushed cheeks, the red and purple welts

blossoming over her neck and face, one eye inflamed and bleeding and the rapid rise and fall of

her armored chest.

She looks feral and furious and lost.

They watch as the very last slivers of her sanity start to disintegrate.

“Gritan y reclaman como los bastardos que son, mientras la muerte de mi esposa no les provoca

ninguna tristeza?! Esta muerta! Muerta, muerta, muerta!”

Her body starts to shiver and shake, her gloved fingers scratching the ground. Suddenly,

She screams up to the sky like some creature of the night, yanking her hair till the roots come

loose from her head as she shrieks and shrieks.

¨La mataron, la mataron! Esos hijos de putas endemoniadas mataron a mi corazón!”

She becomes incoherent with pain and anguish as she collapses to floor and curls up, still crying

and clutching over the space where her heart beats.

the ground, her body heaving and contorting.

The bottle of whiskey lies broken and leaking amber to the fallen leaves.

They watch yet do nothing, because nothing could ever be done.