Snippet #2132009

Vacant eyes stared unseeingly at Winter. They were dark, lifeless but moving things. Strangely - or perhaps not so strangely, because somehow they reminded her of herself - they didn't frighten her. They moved slowly, handing her a menu. "Thank you," she said as she took it from their limp hands. They hardly responded, except tilting their heads in a minuscule action. The Empty Ones.

She stared at the menu of strange foods. Aura Bursts? Golden Grapes? Steamed gabber feet? Pink radish roast? River frog pudding? The Empty Ones stared at them expectantly but at the same time - not. They didn't look like they expected anything or were waiting for anything. Winter glanced at Ar'ther, he somehow reminded her of them. Strange, because he lacked the vacant emptiness. He just seemed - well, dark. He did say he'd been in Limbo for a long time.

"Could I please have a moonlight cocktail and a stone grass bruschetta?" she said, choosing the most edible-sounding things on the menu. The Empty Ones nodded and left, slipping through a small door. She caught a glimpse of small, jumpy and hunched Empty Ones - children. She wanted to gag.

"Is the food here good?" she asked tentatively, looking at the two men seated in front of her. "Is it even edible?" she whispered, not wanting to sound rude. She didn't want the Empty Ones to get offended.

"Do we even need food? What happens if we don't eat? Do we die?" she asked, hopeful.

Then Winter's eyes glazed over, she stared pass the two in front of her. She was still, unmoving and not there. Winter was gone.

There is a heaviness, a weight, a mountain, a troll, a planet, a bulldozer, a factory, a rope around my neck – and it bleeds on everything I love. It holds me down, falls on my head and grips its chains around my ankle and anchors me to the ocean – close enough to breathe but not enough to live.

"If you want to go, that's okay," they'd say. Maybe. Hopefully. One day. I wish someone would give me permission to die. Or at least forget me. I have people to live for – but I don't. The happiness doesn't outweigh the misery. It never does. And even if it did, it'd be hard to remember. To be.

We have no scars to show for happiness.