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Description
The room looks like it hasn't been touched in what seems like ages.

That's simply because: it hasn't.

Traveling by on the long hallway, she hesitantly comes to a stop in front of the door. She looks it up and down, taking in the intricate design of it's pattern, knowing where it could lead if she dared enter. But before they could be stopped, the memories of different times floated to the surface like a horrible swimmer remembering to hold their breath.

These flashbacks, there is times when it can be painful, when she drifts back to yonder day. But she tries to not let it show, though. She has worn the same, simple mask for as long as she can think back, to when memories were dim and forgotten. She just didn't always know. Now, she knows how to wear it so well, not a soul would expect a thing was wrong about her. Except one.

Fighting the voice in the back of her head, she slowly opened the door and walked into the forgotten room.

Lighting was dim, as it always was. Items all around the room, strewn every which way, completely abandoned. That is, until this moment. A table with different mismatched items, a corner covered in small objects, the exact shape and sign to what they were hidden by the diluted shadows.

Everything was forgotten, and by the only person who could ever fill the confines of this small hole she liked to call her own.

She walked over to the small table, trying to discern the things she had left here to gather dust. There wasn't much, but the times of another time, another place, they brought back things that could never be measured by size.

An ink well and quill. Obvious. His cryptic tales that had always seemed to capture her for reasons unknown to her. She picked up the quill, studying it intently.

The things he could tell her that would make her heart do a double take, cause emense feelings of something so very unfamiliar to her. She placed it back down, while simultaneously placing more memories in the front of her mind.

Her eyes moved to the burned, slightly melted heart. Not real, of course, but it was made of parts that couldn't match up. Couldn't match up to his emotions, no matter how unsettling to him they seemed, I know he didn't regret a second of his time spent. There were times when all hope seemed lost. In the end, it seemed handling more than he could keep track of won over his battle.

She tore her gaze off the blackened object, though she realized that the object would forever reflect what was residing inside her. That thought, along with the many others arising, she couldn't fight the painful, hollow feeling slowly growing in her chest.

When here eyes cast over the broken hourglass, it became so very unbearable for her, she did not openly start to sob but let the familiar tear roll down her cheek.

There was so much time. . . she thought to herself, So much that we can no longer spend..together. The last part was almost too much to bear.

One small crack, and then it slowly (but surely) began to grow bigger, spreading 'til it's contents began to spill out. Just one thing wrong and her whole world spread out in front of her, left for everyone else she knew to grab ahold of, to do with it what they please. Everyone she knew would, too. Except one.

He never forced anything upon her. That is, nothing except what skewed her life out of control.

I hate feeling like this, I'm so tired of trying to fight this. I'm asleep and all I dream of is waking to you. Tell me that you will listen; your touch is what I'm missin'. And the more I hide, I realize I'm slowly losing you. Comatose.. I'll never wake up without an overdose of you. . .

Something unexpected, she felt a resentment towards him. Not that it was new, just not what she wanted. But in the end, it was never really about what she wanted to begin with.

When she was ready to leave this place, she turned and saw something purposely ripped down the middle. The only reason she knew it was purposely done: an old picture of her and him, long before it all went wrong.

It was ripped between them, barely hanging together. And not to mention, her face had been scratched out with a tool, the word NEW dug into where her face used to be.

No longer was her fae the one he dreamt about seeing, she wasn't blind to this simple fact. The simple fact she was blind to being that she couldn't understand just waht it was she wanted to begin with. A new face filled her place, but his face was still tattooed across her heart. And it was to stay there long after she was replaced.

That last thought caused more silent tears to fall, her true emotions finally breaking through the mask. True emotions, once forgotten, forever to learn how to live with them and herself, as one. Maybe one day she would learn how to do so, but for now, beneath the mask is where everything will be laying.

As quick as she was able to, she retreated and made her way out of the room, tears slightly blurring her vision on the way out. It was expected, nonetheless.

But once she slammed that door behind her, running as far as her legs would take her, the door had faded just a little more. And it was once again left to be forgotten. Just like her heart. Just like her emotions. Just like her, it had become part of The Forgotten.

Hold your breath now, the bad blood's wearing thin from the pain that settles in when we learn too much too soon.. You said you always keep your word, show me what you're after. I thought you promised me the world.. Tell me what you're after. Go on and take it way too far, 'cause here we are waiting once again. You said you always keep your word. Show me what you're after. . .

This life without you, she thought, Might as well start trying to enjoy it. She held her head a little higher after that thought. Maybe things wouldn't get better for her right away, but for now, she would just learn to deal with herself and her life. But not the way anyone told her to. They way she wanted to.