Where oceans bleed into the sky

Just when she had risen through the ranks, her world had crumbled around her. She had blossomed like a flower, a flame burning iridescently, only to be pulled out from the ground, extinguished. Now she was a pile of dirt, a lump of ash, worthless, her life meaningless. What purpose did she hold in her life anymore? Without her friend, she was nothing. No, he had been more than a close friend. He had meant so much more to her. He had come back for her when her life had fallen apart. Now she was bursting at the seams she had tried to fix herself. Where had he gone? Had he told anyone? Why hadn't he told her? She could have gone with him, regardless of her commitment to Celestial. But why had he left? Was it because of her? Was it because of her, the ebony woman from Argead? Anything but, please, she prayed.

And she had never told him how she truly felt.

Well. This sucked.

It was a real punch-in-the-gut feeling. She knew the depression, the anger, the cluelessness, all too well. Practically drunk on these emotions, these symptoms, she remained snug underneath a bush with sparse thorns. All day she had lied there, on her back, staring up at the bush's vast connection of leaves and branches. Occasionally she jutted a leg out to punch the bush, thorns piercing her skin, the scent of blood filling her nostrils. Rage just overwhelmed her, blending in with the despondency, the abandonment, the loss of her identity, to create this one feeling, sensation. The pain was almost intoxicating; mental and physical. She had been through this shit before, losing everyone she loved, her home, her life. How much had to be thrown her way?

"Speech"