She stood, pressing her hands to her knees so that her gown did not fly up. The wind whipped her black hair and roared in her ears. Barely a sihllouette of a tree, nothing but the midnight blackness all around. The small clearing was overgrown after many years of neglect. The bottom of the shimmering midnight blue dress was ripped and torn and punctured. The brambles and branches had torn and tugged as she ran away. Away from the people. Away from the dance. Away from those pitying, smile-plastered faces.
The rougue howls found there way out of her mouth, only to be carried off by the wind. Not my fault, Not my fault, the words bounced around and around inside her. As the wind blew, it started to hail, the bits of ice pricking her arms and face like small needles. Not my fault, not my fault. The words swirled around her like the wind as it swirled and roared, carrying the droplets of ice with it. With another lost howl she dropped to her knees.
Not my fault, not my fault. Little demons and devils, arguing, laughing. "I didnt kill himmm!" she howled to the wind. And squeezed her eyes shut even tighter. There was only just enough room for a single, delicate tear to squeeze through. It slid down her cheek, and the wind plucked it right off her face, and carried it away.
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