It's hard to get even one review on this website. That's too bad. I really enjoy reading reviews.

Anyway, here's a new little one-shot.


There are these pictures in your hands; pictures of happier times. And now they're just dusty memories of a past, a painful reminder of what you've lost. In moments like these, you wish you would just find the courage to burn them to ashes. But you never do, because it would mean destroying a part of yourself and no one in their right mind would do such a thing. Instead, you keep them close to you, to remind you of what you've been through.

This person, smiling on the picture, is no longer you. Not anymore, never again. It took one day to make this smile disappear forever. One hour. One minute. One car.

One moment, you had everything. The next, you were lying in a pool of blood with no idea of how you had ended up here. You couldn't feel anything, not even the snow falling onto your face. You remember feeling a little cold, and a little tired. You remember the sound of ambulances and someone touching your hand. You remember squeezing that hand. And then, nothing.

They said you were lucky to make it; that you shouldn't have survived such a fall. But your mind refused to let you access the memories. Then they told you about the other passengers. They explained that you were the only survivor.

Survivor.

You hate this word. You hate it because it sounds too right. You survived. And today still, you survive. And you can't move on. You hadn't planned a future alone. Your projects, they're gone. Everywhere you look, there's a wall. But there is no door. No escape. And you feel constricted.

Even the tears do not bring any comfort. Why you survived that day, you have no idea. Why you didn't die with the others is beyond your comprehension.

At night, you do not dream anymore. Every morning you wake up with bloodshot eyes, proof that you cried in your sleep. You wake up feeling even more tired than the previous day.

There's nothing to do, so you just take the same old pictures and you look at them for hours.

And suddenly, you remember. It's just another day, like the others, but today you remember.

The hand. It was not a fireman's. It was not.

You remember everything.

And you cry. Because until their very last moment, they were with you. They drew their last breath lying next to you. This small gesture—taking your hand—was a goodbye.

They said goodbye. They gave you closure. And you choose to ignore the other memories and hold onto this one. In one simple gesture, they told you that you had to fight, that you would be okay.

And you have to be. For them. For those you've loved and lost.

So you go and take a long shower before getting dressed. Then, for the first time in months, you open the front door, step outside and look around.

And finally, finally you feel like maybe, today's going to be different. Today you will live.


For once, this wasn't about romance, but about profound despair and renewed hope.

Tell me what you think of this little piece of work! :)

BloodInTheFields