The Future of Darkness
The moon was a full circle that night. It was one of the few things she particularly noticed that night as she stood by the window, gazing absently at her surroundings. The stars were twinkling brightly, a complete part of a picture with the moon in the cloudless sky against the open sea. Both the beach before her, and the city behind her, were quiet with only the noises of grass blowing and waves rushing back and forth along the sand. It was a beautiful night, some would even consider it romantic for young or old couples, but none of those kind of thoughts went through her head. All she could think about was of past memories, and recent news.
If any man had passed by and had seen her through the window, they would have been stunned by her beauty. She had long, flowing black hair that gently curved itself around her soft face and blue eyes, framed by silky bangs. She wore a long, smooth silver nightgown that could easily be worn to a fancy dinner and nobody could tell the difference, the dress fitted to her tall, perfect figure better than any normal dress or night gown should. The woman was beyond pretty, even with no makeup or jewelry on and with no smile on her face. She held a cold beauty even by just standing stiff still and the only thing betraying the coldness of her beauty was a letter held by her trembling hand.
The woman's gaze shifted from the magnificent scenery before her home to her nightstand by her bed. The only thing it held was pictures, all of her family. Her family that she hadn't seen in years. She lightly touched the top of a picture of a couple smiling and holding a little boy, with shocking white hair, in between them. It was the picture of her sister's family, over ten years ago, and the sight made the woman's mouth twitched. Her mouth only drew into a soft smile when she picked up another picture, this one of a very handsome man and an adorable little boy, both grinning up at the camera.
This one had been taken a little over fifteen years ago and though the cute little boy had grown up now into a very handsome young man, the woman still considered him to be her little boy. She set the picture down and traced the face of the very handsome man in another one. This one had been taken more recently and, though there were now some worry lines on his face, the man looked nearly just the same as he had a little over ten years ago, the last time the woman had seen her husband face to face.
Finally, the woman's eyes drew to one of the far back pictures. It was the most recent one but the only one of its kind, of the person it held. The woman picked it up and sat on the bed as she held the picture in her right hand and the letter in her left. The letter was from her husband, but it was about the girl in the picture. The girl looked almost exactly liked the woman: she also had long black hair that fell behind her back, a beautiful face that was smiling gently in the picture, they even had a similar dress on with the same figure. There was only one difference. Their eyes.
While the woman's eyes were a light blue, the girl's eyes were a dark blue, nearly midnight. If it wasn't for the fact that the girl was genuinely smiling, someone would have thought that someone had died by the girl's serious eyes. They were the kind of eyes that only someone who constantly knew of pain and suffering could hold, the kind of eyes that the woman had been trying to avoid for years. The woman didn't even know why she had the picture, maybe it was for a promise she made years ago to her little boy, or maybe it was because the eyes didn't look so serious and haunting in the picture, but whatever the reason, the woman had put the picture in a frame and added it to the collection of pictures she had kept over the years.
"She would almost be seventeen now," the woman thought to herself as she barely glanced at the letter then back at the girl's picture. "My daughter is almost seventeen." She repeated, rubbing the glass of the frame with her thumb and idly recalled her memories of the past. The woman had done a lot of things in her life, most of which she wasn't proud of, and a lot she wished she could go back and change what happened. She had wished that for a long time now but she knew it couldn't be done. She had even prayed in her heart for an opportunity, a chance, to make things right in her life. To make things better between her, her husband and two children. She knew it was stupid and selfish to mostly just sit back and hope for such a thing to come, but she couldn't help it. Her fear held her back, just as it had done in so many other times in her life, but she was happy to say that her fear was for a different reason this time. This time, her fear was of rejection and hatred.
But now the letter from her husband had offered her that kind of opportunity. Tears came to her eyes as she reread again the kind and loving words that were written there in his neat hand writing. He had always written to her in happiness and love, but this time she could just feel deep in her soul the forgiveness he had put in his words, the love and emotion in the sentences and paragraphs, inviting her home. The tears gently streamed down her face as she closed her eyes and fell back against the bed, the picture frame and letter now held tightly against her chest.
"Is it possible?" She whispered quietly to herself as she now picture her daughter in her mind, "Is it possible that I can finally be the mother that I never was to you, my beautiful Kuroyami."
In another place, where the sun had long since set and the moon and stars were being covered by dark clouds, a young man bolted up in bed. His breathing was hard and labored, as if he had run miles without stopping and sweat was beadily going down his face. He had that dream again. That same…nightmare….that had haunted him for years now. Ever since that day; cold, dark blue eyes haunted his dreams with a face that seemed etched into sorrow and pain. A little girl's face framed with short black hair, wearing a blue dress and a black tear-drop necklace; whispering in a small, pained voice, "I'm sorry, for what you have had to suffer at the place you call home." He shivered at the memory of both the past and the dream that were locked in his mind. He clenched his hand into a fist and pound it into the mattress underneath him.
He had suffered then, and was still suffering now but for a different reason. He was suffering from the memory of that girl, that little girl that had changed his life forever. That little girl that held the meaning Black Darkness. Deep in his heart, he hoped with all his might that he would never have to see that girl and her haunting eyes again.