He is there, and the rock too - and then a crack. They are both gone. A shout of surprise echoes off her sultry lips, but there is no response. All that she can hear is the water smashing itself against the rocks about her. "Matthew?" A question. A silly question. A question she later considers a mistake; she’d berate herself for it, a voice telling her that she shouldn’t have asked quietly - oh no, she shouldn’t have said a word; she should have plunged into that water and gone after him. But that isn’t the way Gretchen functions. - Every man for himself. - Survival of the fittest. - If you can’t work for yourself, don’t let others work for you. But… this is Matthew. Matthew has just been thrust into icy waters with a current the speed of a car. And he is going to die. No, no, take that back - it can’t be true, it can’t be right. It has to be a dream, a nightmare, right? Because people cannot be gone in a blink of an eye like that. That is insane, impossible. But it is too late now; Matthew is dead. Bare feet push her away, towards shore, and when they finally touch the grainy, salty sand, they are rushing in the direction the current is moving. His name continuously bounces off her tongue, resounding out from the terror consuming the petrified girl. This, however, isn’t a game of Marco-Polo. One cannot simply shout the name of a drowning someone and expect them to answer. The speed in which this all is happening is putting her into frantics. crazy CRAZY c r a z y C R A Z Y crazy She isn’t crazy, but she sure feels like she is. "What good is this going to do you? Stop being pitiful, child, go home, call the aurors, tell them what happened," her mind reprimands. Cries continue to belt out her mouth as she runs down the bank, kicking up dirt in her wake. ‘Oh, cruel world!’ she might have sobbed out, were she as dramatic as the others of her family. She might have fallen to her knees and looked out upon the thrashing river, calling for a miracle to light upon such a young, devastated girl. She might have dived in and died attempting to find his body that was surely lifeless by this point. She doesn’t, though. And why doesn’t she? Because she is Gretchen. And, as stated before, Gretchen does not function that way, regardless of whom she loves - … loved. And so, instead, the girl allows the grief and guilt and misery to envelop her for some many times that came. Grief and guilt and misery becomes a game of hide-and-seek. It is a tedious one at that; she grows to hate it, but plays it with anyone who offers interest in her, and Gretchen is always victor.
Posted on: Wed, 31 Jul 2013 18:24:41 +0000
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