JuliaMetMichaelSamaraSawTheStarsGenevieveFoundFear

i.

                               Tonight is different.
Genevieve pauses, watching layers of fog ascend forward from the darkness.  The ominous mist slinks onward as it settles against her taunt muscles.  Vapor coils along her skin like venom; tangible and prickling.
She allows herself timid inhales of February.  Every breath sparks arctic shockwaves through her nervous system.  Glacial streaks echo between her tissues; ever-so-silent, sickening her.  Genevieve then slows, listening to iced-oxygen as it hardens between blood cells.

                     The cold feels like boulders in my lungs.
She begins to feel so unexpectedly heavy in her skin.  Sluggish steps wade through the freshly frozen streets.  Genevieve is weary, still she saunters forward.  Unwilling muscles contract in unison, unconsciously clenching for heat.  She shudders, shivers rippling out from her shoulder bones.

                     There had always been a choice, even now.
Pink puny fingers flex against frozen palms, clenching in an attempt to force the shivers from strained phalanges.  Still convulsions continue quaking out from tensed flesh and into perspiring fists.  Her every fiber aches; stiff, taunt, but still freezing cold.

                          A whisper, an echo.  Maybe a nightmare.
                              (  blood  is  thicker  than  water  )
And it is here, beneath a softened jaundice glow, that Genevieve gives in.  Clutching a frosty streetlight as she submits.  
 
And for the first time in a long time Genevieve is unsure of herself.                                                                                                                                



ii.

                       Sometimes we were the same person.
Samara looked to the stars, hypnotized by fireflies caught in a glass ceiling.  Flickers that flared within infinite layers of obsidian cellophane.  Samara was silent.  A timid breeze unfurled from the atmosphere, flitting across the treetops and reaching for her skin.  It felt lithe; delicate.  Soothing as it kissed betwixt her fingers.




iii.

Michael loved her, the girl with elusive eyes and vaporized emotions.  Julia.  But sadly,
Michael also enjoyed swallowin' a few too many.  And most of the time, he couldn't decide which he loved more.  Sloppy compliments would spurt from his split lips.
             Julia's eyes are grey, but they used to be silver.
And sometimes, he didn't really know.  He had truly forgotten she was gone.