Beautiful

February 6, 2005

Alone she walks. The road is narrow and long. The air is thick, too thick to see the road ahead. Yet on she walks. The only sound is her breathing.

Her face is stained with tears, her hair matted and dirty. No one would ever say she was pretty with her face aged far beyond her years… aged by worries and pain that no one should go through alone. She tells herself she needs no one. She tells herself she loves how it is; that she wouldn’t change a thing.

She pauses as a raindrop falls upon her dirty forehead. Looking toward the sky, she sees it growing darker. Thunder echoes in the distance, the wind increases. The air smells cold.

Alone. It echoes through her brain. Alone.

Her hand is grasped suddenly, tight and secure. She is led away from her lonely path, pulled deep into the woods. She feels warm, safe. She feels fear but no foreboding. She knows she’s been rescued.

”Beautiful,” the voice whispers into the darkness. She gazes up at the face of her rescuer. His green eyes pierce her and he pulls her close with them. “Beautiful,” he whispers again, and she feels the truth of it all the way through her. She ties her arms around him as the cold rain envelops them.

Still she hurts. Still she is in the dark, but no longer is she alone.

Beautiful. And that’s how she wants it.