Hello Hello! ^^
This is another ff from me. It's a drama. My first to be precise. ; D Usually I'm more of a romantic, but this idea has haunted my head for so long that I finally had to put it on paper:) ..... let's go !!

//.....// flashback in the flashback
/...../ thought
"....." spoken

*****

I look down
In my reflection
It's in the grass
In a sea of ​​blood
Red color everywhere

Pain
memories
Feelings

They were locked
In a dark box
In the eternal blackness of the inside
They should stay there
To the eternity

Strands of thought
Experiences pass me by
Long past pictures
Which should be forgotten

I feel
How the chains reach for me
Pull yourself tighter around me
Cold comes over me
A shiver makes me tremble

I see my reflection in the mirror
Look to the sky
I see how I do
Look to the sky
My eyes close
Black surrounds meThe end is coming

In Nerima the day had swapped places for the night. Like a guest in a tavern, she had come to the small town and settled down there. She was here to demand what, according to the law of the stars, belonged to her.
The wind blew through the branches of the trees in the park near the center. The branches cracked easily and bumped against each other. The leaves rustled, some peeled off and fell to the ground. The city was deep asleep. The masses of people that still populated the squares and streets during the day had disappeared. The noise, the chatter and laughter, the shouting and the conversation were gone like the flame of a candle. The doors of the houses closed, the windows closed, the curtains drawn, the lights off.
Only the dim glow of the few street lamps lit up the area. A car drove down the street, only to disappear again at the next corner. And then everything was quiet.Only the faint sound of the rain could be heard as it pounded on the window panes and on the roofs. Plop .... plop .... plop .... plop .... plop, an eternal, repetitive, monotonous sound.
Quiet

silence

security
No human soul was on the way. They all slept soundly in their beds. And yet the recurring sound of the pouring rain was broken up by an almost imperceptible disturbance. And if you perk up your ears and pay attention, you would be able to hear it.

Plop .... plop .... plop .... plop .... plop .... plop .... plop

The even dripping was disturbed by an irregularity, an effect that was not part of it.

Splatsch .... plop .... splash .... plop .... plop .... plop

It got louder, approached. At first you couldn't see anything. But then you could see a shadowy something through the darkness. As we approached, the silhouette formed a figure, a person made of flesh and blood. It was a young woman who disrupted the regularity of the rain.She had chin-length hair that waved around her cheeks. If it had been daytime and the shining light of the sun would fall on her, one would have seen that her hair was soaked in a deep, strong ocean blue. She wore a white, somewhat transparent nightgown with thin straps. It shone faintly through the darkness like the thin light of one of the fireflies that were so often seen on warm evenings in summer.

What was a young woman doing alone in the darkness of the night? What made you want to be outside at this late hour?

The wind tore at her shirt, which was blowing around her slim body. She shivered. She walked slowly, swayed, stumbled uncertainly. The young woman padded barefoot through the deserted street. Her feet bruised, her legs scratched, her skin wet and cold, her nightgown stuck heavily to her body.

..... splash .....

Her legs suddenly gave way, she could no longer keep her balance and had fallen, in the middle of one of the large puddles that covered the street everywhere.She stood on all fours in the water. The hem of the shirt had a yellowish, brown edge because the puddle water had combined with the dirt on the floor. She got up again and walked on. However, after a few meters she stumbled again and this time finally stayed on the ground. She had her head on the floor so that her hair covered her face and her features. Slowly she raised her head. Her otherwise radiant fawn-brown eyes were only a faint image of her earlier, life-sparkling form. They only shone faintly, their eyes were glassy and empty. Despair and sadness could be read in them. The helplessness and loneliness that she radiated could not be. Now was the time when someone should come and take her lovingly in their arms, comfort her, give her warmth and security. But that someone didn't come. He wouldn't come. Nobody would come to put a smile on her face again.It was too late for that.

A smile, a simple, insignificant, little smile. When would she ever be able to do this again?
Would she ever make it again?
It was so easy to pull the corners of your mouth up a little ..... so easy and yet, so incredibly difficult.
Yes, once upon a time, this gesture was the easiest for her in the world. She had smiled with her friends, smiled with her family, smiled when she saw him, sometimes even more than she would like.
But today.....?
Today everything was different.
If she tried to smile now, to indicate it, it was as if she had to pull up tons. And if she thought she had made it and looked in the mirror to convince herself, then she always shrank back from her own reflection in a frightened way.
No.
The hands of the clock had rotated a thousand times too much, the earth had changed, it had changed and with it, her smile. It was gone and would never return.She closed her eyes. But her thoughts were long gone, had withdrawn into her own, small, perfect world.

"Ranma !!!"
The young man who had been called turned around and began to smile as he recognized the source of the voice. He reached out and grabbed one of the hands of the girl who came running up to him. Together they walked through a beautiful park. The flowers in the meadows were in full bloom. They spread a bewitching scent that you could almost taste on the tongue. The water of the large lake on the edge of the meadows shone azure blue and invited you to bathe in its refreshing water. The sunlight that broke on the surface of the water shone like a thousand small diamonds from the surface.
The couple stopped under one of the trees. The young man leaned down a little to the girl holding his hand and kissed her red lips carefully.Then he hugged her lovingly in his strong arms. The girl visibly enjoyed it and snuggled up against him.
But suddenly the picture of the two changed. The contours blurred and became transparent.

They say; time heals all wounds, but this sentence must have been written by someone who did not know love, never experienced it.
Perhaps it is only referring to external wounds?
If a child falls from the swing and opens his knee, the wound disappears after a few weeks and the child's knee looks exactly the same as before.
Is that what it means?
Or does it refer to true love after all?
If you love and the beloved goes away or leaves this world, can you laugh, play, be like before, just like the little child after a few weeks or years? Or is this a lot harder? Should you forget everything after a period of grief and pick up where you left off? Or is this step impossible?Should you stick to the sentence: life goes on and everyone has already lost a loved one, not just yourself? Should one get up to mourn the egoism further while others look at their fate again in the eye and wipe away with it again
stand on both feet in life?

The young woman shook her head vigorously. No, she couldn't get lost in dreams. She had to face reality.
Yes, maybe it would have happened one day, but she knew that this was now impossible. A single tear rolled down her pale cheeks. It fell to the ground and mixed with the rainwater. Another opens up, but was wiped away by the young woman's hand halfway through.
She hadn't cried a single time since the day it had happened, let alone allowed the grief. She had been able to show everyone that she was going to get over it, she was strong. Over the years she wore a fake mask that more or less showed the others a smiling face.If she had said she was fine and she would no longer indulge in the past but enjoy life again, they had believed her. Just like that without asking. Or maybe they were too busy themselves with their own grief. But at some point they got over it too. Way too fast. They went back to their daily routine as if nothing had happened.
Far too much time had passed. Every morning it was said: The show must go on!
But now she couldn't. The self-built theater had given its last performance. Her role of happy and contented person had made her last appearance. The curtain was closed. It was over.
The mask fell, the fake face crumbled, and the real one came out.
Suddenly deep sadness showed in her eyes. They got watery. More and more tears ran down her cheeks.

Every person is different, every person is an individual. Should we presume to judge another person?As family members, as friends, as neighbors, as outsiders? And just as we are all different, so are our feelings, our selves. Some are strong and overcome the pain, others can hide it particularly well and thus become master of it. But there are also people who are weak and unable to let go.
Both is important.
Strong & Weak ~ Yin & Yang
What does it mean to be strong or weak? Aren't the strong perhaps the weak and the weak the strong?
Are we even allowed to judge a person?
Wouldn't that be exactly how we would behave if we were in the same situation?

Despair had eaten deeper into her every day and now she had finally broken through through the thick wall that was being built. The pain that she would have had days, weeks, months to deal with now fell on her with full force. She crouched in a small ball and wept bitterly.She rocked back and forth like a small child, trembling all over. She could be