[ The wind whips around me, icy fingers catching at my arms and face. Pulling my jacket closer, I close my eyes, wondering when I became this way. ]

The wind whips around me, icy fingers catching at my arms and face. Pulling my jacket closer, I close my eyes, wondering when I became this way.
I let my feet carry me forward, knowing from memory exactly where everything is. Placing a hand on the rail, I open my eyes again, staring down into the fast moving waters of the river. Sometimes I wish it could carry me away...
 A sudden movement out the corner of my eye; catches my attention. Turning my head, I realise it was only my reflection in the shop window. I scowl; the figure in the glass frowns darkly back. It has silver hair, blending into icy blue at the ends. Dark eyes - though it’s hard to tell, staring out above a black and white scarf that’s wrapped loosely round the neck, so long it nearly touches the floor. Dark clothes reflect the equally dingy street.

“Oy, you comin’ or what?”

I started in shock, spinning around fast. Before me stood a grinning girl somewhere around seventeen. A frown was already etched on my face.
“I was waiting for you, it’s your fault for being late.” My response is quick; maybe sharp, but I don't care.

Letting the smile slip from her face she crossed her arms, pouting like a child. “Awww, it’s not my fault, Ali nicked the van keys. Please don’t be mad, please, please, please!” She smiled sweetly; somehow I could see why people thought she was an angel.

I brushed past her easily, pulling the scarf up again, till it covered my nose. She caught up fast; watching my face carefully. Seeing no anger she smiled slightly, a one sided conversation started up. Occasionally I put in a word, trying to keep her interested and away from her favourite subject. Me. As we wondered down the streets my mind dawdled, flitting occasionally. I felt tired - looking at the shops, glancing away when people realised I’d been observing them. I'd never thought about how this life affected me. Never wondered about how far others would be willing to go for a cause...

Suddenly the events of a few years ago come back, I wince - the pain still as raw as if it were yesterday. It still hurts to think about... about what happened. I wish sometimes, things could go back to the way they were, but I already know; I understand why things are this way. Why he left. You see, I always turned my back on what was important, always stopped when I knew I could've carried on, could've made a difference. And I hate myself for it.

Your probably confused, wondering where I'm going with this, but just hang on a minute. It's not time yet. Not time...

Angie stopped suddenly and it was only pure luck that I didn't career into the back of her. Spinning round, she gave me one of her huge grins, it's a wonder she doesn't get mistaken for a little kid. "We're here!" She announces loudly. A few people look at us strangely, then turn back to what ever they were doing.
For the first time I pay attention to where we are. The building before us is large, three floors high, with fake looking colloseum post things that look like they cost a small fortune. I turn to the girl next to me, only to find she's disappeared off the face of the planet. With a sigh, I return to examining the surroundings, the windows are large, revealing everything inside easily. Tables stretch as far as the eye can see; posters for food stuffs and age old concerts, peel slowly off the walls. It's a wonder the inhabitants aren't crumbling away either. You'd expect a place like this to be as empty as a shoe box with no shoes, but no. People scurry about inside like ants, waiting any moment for a bomb to drop; which I can't really blame them for. And unless Mya has invited them all then, they really are here of their own free will... amazing.

Slowly I go in, hesitating every step of the way. Somehow I can see our group in a place like this; though the affect is as scary as hell. A wave. A voice. And I know we're late. Where ever Angie disappeared to any way. Twisting in between the people, at last I lower myself into a chair, mentally cursing the girl for ever talking me into seeing them. Looking round, I take in the faces, each ones aged; a scar that wasn't there before, physically or mentally, a hardness to their features. Everyone's here. Everyone I knew from before... well... almost.
"So... did we turn up for nothing, or are you going to tell us what the idiots been so secretive about?" Ali. As forward as he ever was, damn him. Times done some wonders for his once childish face. Taking away the brief scattering of acne, though a long scar covered his left eye. But none of that's important now.

I take out the sheets of paper like they're the most sacred thing in the world. And to us they are, or are probably going to be anyway as soon as the others have seen them. I push them across the table, then sit back, for the first in a while, feeling exhausted and drained. As a young man with dark hairs picks them up, I close my eyes, my mind flashing back to a few days ago; when I received the e-mail.

Scrolling down the screen I barely took the time to read. A feeling of urgency trapped me; words standing out like a poem. His poem. Something I’d never read. It was like I was trespassing on his soul, but I couldn’t stop, I had to know. I had to.