I glance up at the moon, watery light casting shadows on the four others that stand behind me. Fog enshrouds us, and, but for the faint silver of the moon, this world is pitch black.
We wait and watch the dark road in front of us. It is empty and silent. No one comes. No one ever does. And yet we stand here each night, I in the front and those other four behind me. Waiting.
What are you waiting for? you ask.
We are waiting for her. But she will never come. She is dead. We know this.
So why are you waiting at all? you ask, wanting to understand. Why are we here, if she will never come?
Because we need her. She is the only one who can save us, take us away from this place. She came once before, so why shouldn't she come now?
But she doesn't. She is dead. We know this.
If you know she is dead, then why do you wait? you plead with us, asking us why, why, we wait for someone who won't come.
Because their spirits are broken. They are broken like shattered glass, sharp, glittering shards covering the room where they fell when she died. They are merely souls, as empty as this road.
But why do you wait?
Because I make them. Because this dark place has hurt them, has taken everything away from them, leaving them cold and remorseful.
Why do you make them wait?
Because I am the only one who still has hope. A shred of hope is the only thing the darkness left me. The darkness knew that if it left me hope, it would hurt me more than being without it. The darkness left me to hope she would come, knowing even as I did it that she wouldn't.
The darkness was right. Hoping hurts more than not hoping. But I can't help it. I am like Pandora; she opened the box and let the darkness out into the world, but hope stayed behind to tell her that there was still a chance to make things right, even when there wasn't. And hoping killed Pandora, just as it will eventually kill me.
But, as if this wasn't enough, the darkness tortures me even more by also leaving my memories to me.
This is why I wait. Because I have forever lost the one I have loved, and still love.
I wait because I remember her tinkling laugh, like silver chimes dancing in the breeze, and how she laughed at all my stupid jokes.
I wait because I remember her honey brown eyes, like the leaves that fall from the trees in Autumn, and how she always looked at me with such a kind expression.
I wait because I remember her soft skin, like silk, and how she used to slip her hand into mine.
I wait because I remember her smile, like the bright lighthouse beacon that guides sailors carefully away from the jagged rocks on stormy nights at sea, and how she only ever smiled that way when she saw me.
I wait because I remember her red lips, like little round Juniper berries, and the way she kissed me goodnight.
I wait because I remember her sweet voice, like sugar, whispering in my ear three tiny words that meant so much. "I love you." She had whispered.
I wait for her because she asked me to.