Grey

Grey

She didn't think it would end this way.

After everything she had survived - the yearly life-threatening adventures, the battles, the war - she was dying not because of a curse or a spell. Hell, she wasn't even dying through disease or illness. After everything she had been through, she was now the victim of a mugging gone wrong, and her life was ending due to the hot, lead bullet that had just pierced her chest.

She lay on the ground of the dirty, non-descript alleyway. Staring at the sky as she struggled to breathe, she was assaulted by images from her twenty years on this earth.

She saw her two best friends. The two boys she had grown up with, who she loved with her whole, though now fractured, heart. They were total opposites, black and white, contrasting in practically every way. But that's the thing about black and white - you can't have one without the other. They belong together, forever linked, just like her two beautiful friends.

Through her watery eyes she could see the deep red blood leaking from her chest onto the cold concrete. She trembled, feeling an ice blue cold speeding through her veins, all the way to her heart.

She shut her eyes, feeling the warm tears flow down her temple. Her minds eye stumbled to another memory.

They were fighting. The three friends were arguing so loudly that she had to stop mid sentence and put a silencing charm on the room, lest anyone from downstairs could hear them. In that moment, she wanted nothing to do with black and white. She wanted to paint her life with colours, bold and bright. She wanted to swirl the black and white of her world - anything to feel alive.

But she couldn't do it, because that would mean abandoning her two best friends. Abandoning the black and the white. So she stopped screaming, hugged the two men, and sat down calmly as the emptiness inside her grew.

There was a noise from the top of the alleyway. Someone had found her.

A stranger rushed to her side, gasping in shock at the sight before him as he fell to his knees. He put his hand to her clammy forehead, making anguished noises. He was soon on his mobile phone, calling for help. He did whatever the person on the other end told him to do, like checking her pulse and putting pressure on the wound.

But she barely noticed. She was entranced by this strangers eyes. She had only ever known one other person with eyes the same colour. They belonged to the man she loved.

The stranger hung up the phone and took her hand, assuring her that she would be fine. She tried to speak but he immediately hushed her, telling her to save her strength. Strength she wasn't sure she possessed.

As she looked into his grey-blue eyes, she thought about the love of her short life. The man who had no idea of the deeper feelings she held.

She remembered the last time she laid eyes upon him. The four of them were visiting together when he announced he had to go away for a short while. He had something to take care of but assured them he wouldn't be away long. She had walked him to the door, a strange feeling washing over her. She couldn't place it, but she knew that something was very wrong. She wanted to stop him from leaving, but couldn't think of what to say to convince him to stay. She wanted to tell him how she felt, but she couldn't find the words.

With his hand on the doorknob, he turned and looked at her, and her anxiety must have been showing because he asked what was wrong. She opened her mouth to speak, but instead went to him and threw her arms around his neck. He was clearly shocked, but returned her hug. When she released him, she lightly touched his greying hair. He looked as though he was about to say something, but then he changed his mind. He gave her a smile, kissed her forehead, lingering slightly longer than was necessary, and promised he would be back by the end of the week. That was two months ago - she hadn't seen him since.

The pain was becoming too much. She closed her eyes tightly, her whole body screaming in agony.

The stranger spoke, begging her to stay with him, telling her to open her eyes and look at him. But when she reopened her eyes and looked into the grey-blue eyes of this kind stranger, she didn't see him. She saw her love, smiling sweetly at her, telling her it was going to be okay.

She blinked and the stranger was back. He was running his hand through her messy hair in soothing motions. He was still talking, telling her to focus on him. She tried to smile but she couldn't - it required energy she didn't have. He could see her effort though, and took that as a positive sign. He smiled, asking her what her name was.

She didn't answer.

She closed her eyes, her mind a blanket of grey.