Sitting in front of the vanity mirror with her hands clenching her white dress, she thinks. What worries her... is him. The man she is about to marry. What does she like about him? The way he looks at her when she speaks? The way he holds her when she hurts? Is it love? Does she love him? Or are these feelings lies like the rest. She is afraid. Frightened to the end of her wits that she may wake up one Sunday morning and realize she does not love him and he does not love her. She has experienced it many times before to doubt the daunting possibility.

The people whom she calls her friends... they know how to brush her hair and pin it up. They know how to apply powder and rouge to cover her frozen cheeks. But they do not know that she is fighting back the urge to stand up and scream, stand up and run out, stand up and leave... to chase hopeless dreams across grassy hills and flower fields... to a faraway place.

She wants to escape the chains once more. 

"I think he's really the one for you, Cyn. He knows how to treat a girl." Her friend's words do not bring comfort. If anything, they add to her suspicion. Through trickery and deceit, he is a liar. A liar... just like him.

So she runs. She runs from the sounds of this world only to realize she cannot run from the sounds of the other. She can feel his fingers crawling around her neck. She cannot help but shudder.

You can't get rid of me. I'll never abandon you.

The ghost speaks. He speaks to her like a father, a brother, a lover, a friend, an enemy. He is everything in the nothingness that is her soul. She struggles to free herself from the binds. Her hair escapes their pins as she runs barefoot up the silent hill.

As much as your mind wanders, it'll always return to me. I'm the source of your happiness... and despair.

"Leave me alone!" It is a scream of agony mixed with rage that rockets toward the open blue skies. But it is not enough to silence the devil.

Your wedding dress is beautiful. Who is he this time? A doctor? A prosecutor? A politician?

Her body is numbed beyond pain. The cold wind blowing against the cliff cannot rattle her.

But you don't love him. You've run away again to the farthest corner of the world. He is not stating the truth. He is only stating the obvious.

He laughs... the kind she wishes to forget. Because you say love matters. He mocks. Do you remember what I told you? 

How can she not when he is constantly reminding her that it is the only way to live. Her foot finds a loose rock and with Gravity's blessing, it falls.

Everything would've been fine if you'd just cast that feeling aside.

She closes her eyes. Her body sways in the wind. She does not want to give in. But it is persistent... like him. It tugs at her dress. It pulls at her hair.

Love is a sickness. Like a high fever, you become delirious.

It is the reason why she is here.

You can't think straight.

A red shoe slips from her hand and it tumbles down to the bottom, waiting for her to follow.

But you can end it. Come to me.

Should she?

Xinling. Jump.

Could she?

Isn't that why you came here?

Yes and no.

Jump.

He gives her a push... and she falls.

DEC 15 2013 | 603 WORDS | M♥H