Liz tossed and turned no longer. The deathly pale girl of 20 stared pointedly at the ceiling, like a ghost waking up from a dream.
“I know I am alone and my life is fragile and inconsequential to absolutely everything that exists” said she, to absolutely no one in particular.
There was nothing to be heard in that room, for the room was pin drop silent.
Had it not been for the hurt presence of a grief-stricken lover at the doorframe, one might have assumed that all occupants of the room had died - right with the spirit of the fragile little girl.
“I love truth and loyalty, I practice it, but it is not something I can find here in this world. And that is the proof I do not belong to this world.”
It was at that precise moment that the doorbell decided to ring and take away any chance the lover had of thanking her for being his world.
Sadly, morosely, he made his way to the door.
Liz remained suspiciously silent in the two and a half minutes he made his way back to the room.
“Did you-”
“That’s mine!” Liz shot up in bed and demanded possession of the somewhat huge brown box he was trudging back with.
He passed it to her.
“What did you get this time?”
At least she is excited for something, he smiled.
His smile vanished as soon as it had appeared.
It was a grim reaper plushie.
“I had it custom-made”. And Liz was a girl again.
A morbidly, sickly girl infatuated with death.
“Do you know why death fascinates me so much?”
She did not wait for an answer.
“Death is the most loyal companion. It doesn’t matter if you are young or old, rich or poor, winner or loser. Death follows you forever till you die.”
She gazed adoringly at the blue cotton flames sewn in for eyes.
It also does not embellish truth with sweet lies. If it wants to take you calmly, it will take you when asleep. If it wants to take you with a bang, it will arrange an explosion.
She stopped, suddenly very conscious of her strange affections.
“I am insane, am I not? Well, the most loyal friend I have is death, so of course I am.”
“Good night, sweet death.”
And without waiting for his answer, without seeing his glistening eyes, she fell asleep with ‘Mr Death’.
She awoke the next morning, hoping that day would be her last, the day she would embrace death.
In her anticipation, she almost slipped on her way to washroom.
There were a myriad of white rectangles strewn across the floor.
She picked one up.
“I want to see the sea with you.”
-Behind it was a picture of the beach.
She picked up another.
“I want to mount the ains with you.”
-Behind it was a picture of some snow laden mountain tops.
And yet another -
“I want to learn art from you!”
Behind it was - a green splotch - something she couldn’t actually make out what it was.
“I tried to paint our garden”, he shrunk in the doorway and looked away awkwardly.
I know you are in pain and I am selfish to want you to stay here with me. But still will you please stay and live my dreams with me? I promise to meet your friend with you too, though it will have to wait a bit.
There was a funny not-so-feminine snort from Liz, followed by a thump and hearty sobs.
“I... am… sowrry”, she managed to gasp between her sobs.
“I am sorry, Haruki”
Haruki blinked away his tears and went to pick her up from the lows.
She clung to his legs, but he gently unfolded her and helped her shaking frame stand up.
Heart to heart, arms in arms.
Locked in that warm embrace, like she was his world.
Weird, insane, odd.
That mad artist was his, forever and ever.
Reflections