***
I listen to the wind,
To the wind of my soul
Where I’ll end up,
Well I think only god really knows
I’ve sat upon the setting sun,
But never, never, never,
I never wanted water once,
No never, never, never
I listen to my words
But they fall far below
I let my music take me
Where my heart wants to go
I swam upon the devil’s lake,
But never, never, never,
I’ll never make the same mistake,
No never, never, never.
- The Wind, Cat Stevens
Willow stood in the darkness looking up at the mansion, the sun setting
behind her. Her heart beat at a furious pace. She stepped forward, every
part of her telling her to trust in her heart, her soul, herself. Another
step, she carefully placed one foot in front of the other, terrified that
she would fall if she didn’t make sure every step was carefully placed.
She swallowed audibly, reaching for the door handle. She hesitated, frightened
of what she might find inside. She drew in a deep breath, closing her eyes
and twisting the handle, forcibly dragging the protesting door against
it’s creaking hinges. She stepped inside. Nothing prepared her for what
she saw, tiny white lights everywhere, a beautiful painting mounted above
the fireplace, the woman looked like her, but the dress was completely
different, her ears pricked to the soft music of Cat Stevens, she recognized
the tune. It was ‘The Wind’ she fell into the words, not moving, her eyes
closing to the sights around her, to the ancient smell of the mansion,
despite it new furnishings it still smelled like old things, dust, and
memories.
She let the world melt away, and nothingness surrounding her, she was
standing on a high precipice, the sea raging below her, the sweet sea breezes
filling her lungs, running through her hair, ruffling the red dress she
wore. Strong wrapped around her waist, holding her close. Her heart sped
up,
reaching an impossibly fast pace. She couldn’t look up at him, afraid
she’d fallen asleep while still on her feet, the music still singing in
her ears, tears stung her eyes, she didn’t want the dream to end, but as
the music flowed and slowed, and finally ceased, the sweet sea breezes
faded. Her hair fell limply around her face again, her nose was filled
with the musty old small of the mansion once again. She was standing on
the hard, stone floor, alone. But she wasn’t alone. The strong arms were
still wrapped tightly around her and there was still a strong chest for
her back to lean against.
Still, she didn’t risk opening her eyes. Then, his voice flung all
doubts of anything from
her mind. All coherent thought died with his rich, accented words.
“I thought you wouldn’t come, baby,” his mouth was so close to her ear
that she could feel his lips moving against the soft flesh.
“I’ll always come for you, Spike,” she whispered back, sheer ecstasy
flooding over her, she was back home, where she belonged, in his arms.
“I love you Spike,” she told him, not looking at him, praying that he would
tell her the same. He never had before, and if he ever would, it would
be now. “I love you too, Willow,” he said. It was the first time he’d ever
called her by her real name, and her heart stopped beating as he turned
her gently and kissed her. With that kiss, her world ended. Her heart never
began beating again, and her form slumped in his arms, tears of joy staining
her face. He held her close, she was gone from him, and he had to remain,
though he wanted to follow her. He loved her, and he let her go.