Frozen

She was frozen, staring at nothing. No one in the crowded library took notice. She was the weird girl who never seemed to be in her element; that just kind of kept to herself and never minded not fitting in. She was concentrating on that feeling, that sweeping pain that had passed through her just moments ago. A ladybug had landed on her hand, and it seemed to be looking at her intently, although the young girl had forgotten about it almost as soon as she’d noticed it. Its image burned in her mind as a heart-wrenching sob threatened to explode from her lips.1

A tear was shining prettily in her honey-brown eye. The ladybug, the same symbol that stained her darling Robin’s milky skin. She hadn’t seen Robin in a long, long time. She had no way of knowing that Robin was healthy or safe, or even alive. No way of knowing with proof anyway. She always had a feeling though…when she felt calm come over her, she knew that Robin was safe. But when that ladybug landed on her hand, sending that shot of pain through every particle of her being, right to her heart, she knew something was very, very wrong.2

Frozen, she slowly stood up, rubbing her arms as quickly as she could, failing to produce friction. Step by step, inch by inch, she made her way to the balcony. Unattached, unbalanced and unfeeling, she watched her own feet climbing the rail. She heard a muffled scream, as if someone had put pillows over her ears. She was faintly aware of the countless hands fruitlessly trying to save her as she fell, her long hair and skirt flowing around her.3

She hit the pavement and died instantaneously. She saw her Robin, looking lovelier than ever before in a white gauzy dress and her light hair flowing in an intangible breeze.  Robin’s deep blue eyes sparkled happily as she extended a beautiful, glowing hand toward her one true love. She took it, and hand in hand in and they walked into the unknown, unfrozen.4