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She’s as untouchable as the stars and her eyes are the most ethereal shade of blue.
She is the subject of dreams, holding the galaxy in her perfect smile, and as beautiful as the fading night sky on the clearest winter dawn. When she walks by, with hair like the deep ocean, unfazed by all the wind and weather; it’s like nobody else matters in the world.
You are nothing compared to that girl – you are the ground beneath her feet, the dew-laden grass which succumbs to her very presence. Naught would come of you, so long as she stands tall and unwavering like a beacon of light in the darkest storm.
All you are, in every sense of the world, is a mere fool.
You’re a fool and a joke, waxing poetic about a beautiful idol that the world loves – but even if you are nothing, not one person in the wide reaches of the universe could love her as much as you do.
They say you’re pathetic.
They say it’s just a phase.
They say you don’t know what true love is at your age.
Maybe you don’t.
But she is your one and only; and you can’t ever express how much you adore her in enough words to do your angel justice. Some say you’re shallow, but you love her deep from wherever love comes from – not the heart, because the heart will one day stop beating, but from a place that lives eternally.
The connection that pulls you towards her is beyond human comprehension – and perhaps it is the result of a past life, or memories thrown away, or a tale of star-crossed lovers, or of anything, really. You’d settle with anything. Anything that can explain how it feels to be entirely and irrevocably in love with a star that will never be your own.
Her name is Sayaka Maizono, the face plastered across platinum screens and the covers of magazines – always glistening, shining and pure.
Ever more untouchable. Your angel, your shooting star, your goddess. You could fit her in the closed circle of your arms and set her snugly under your chin, but that is not where she wants to be. That’s not where she belongs.
So you place her on a pedestal – high, high above it all, in hopes that maybe if she reaches the sky, she’ll reach the realm of happiness which she deserves. A peaceful place, lit by the warmth of the sun, where she belongs.
Sayaka Maizono’s place is in the sky, where no-one can disturb her rest; where no-one can crack her marble mask. Not even you, though you long for her loving smile and her pretty words.
Not even you, though you yearn for her divine gaze and a meagre second of her precious time.
You still do. Your hope soars, when you see the dainty scrawl – stark against the paper in your callous palms – and you’re still so much of an idiot that you forget the most important thing. You drown in naivety. As if Sayaka Maizono would ever be interested in the likes of you.
You learn that wishful thinking is too much of a dangerous thing.
Fear thrums in your chest as hard as exhilaration does, and it feels like you’re moments away from either hitting a home run or being hit by a home run flying.
She’s crying when she holds that knife. A slim dagger, glinting dangerously under the dim ugly lights. You don’t doubt her intentions. Instead, you wish you were both under the moonlight. Perhaps you could pass it off as a product of your imagination, then. A dream, where you and Sayaka pledge to turn to stardust. Haunted, and drifting, in the night sky forever. But that is just a dream.
A dream where your angel is illuminated by the world above – where she is not bursting forth with crystal tears and silent sobs. Like diamonds, they fall down her cheeks. Effortlessly, the mark of her anguish. It breaks you apart.
She shakes so fearfully in the midnight that you wonder how you would live with yourself if you let her go on like this. She might then spend nights in grief, if she had spilled forth your blood. Or perhaps, like a spider to their prey; she would be relieved to have exterminated you. You have no idea.
Her mystical blue eyes meet your earthy, mortal gaze.
Your soul wrenches in torment. She looks so beautiful when she’s finally seeing you for the first time.
But there is little time for you to admire her anymore.
You don’t think before you act. You never do.
And in a breath, she’s gone.
Your hand retracts from the handle of the blade, and you’re consumed with utter madness.
You had angled straight to her center, plunging her own weapon into her body, and the splatter of death along with the sharp shut of her eyelashes tells you all you need to know. Not a sound leaves your lips, but upon your parting, your heart and soul shriek in horror and split in two – there, where you see her lying still.
Where you see your goddess, your shooting star, your angel; a victim under your own foolish hands.
Your blood runs cold.
You scramble for an excuse in your jumbled mind, hoping and praying that something will tell you that you didn’t do anything wrong, and that this nightmare is only that; a terror of the night, a figment of your delusional head. Even your thoughts abandon you. You have never felt more isolated and deranged in your life.
There is no excuse for what you’ve done. You know that you have sinned, and you have proved that you are the very brute they always said you were – for wanting to touch the stars for even a moment, you had destroyed them. You will never forget her diamond tears.
With nothing left but cowardice, you flee and swallow your heart.
No grief, no anguish, no guilt, no torment. You disallow it from yourself. You, who had done this horrid deed on this horrid night; you no longer deserve to feel anything.
The evidence is still heavy on you – and you feel condemned to the point of no return. The slide of a glass sphere, one that was miles away from the beauty of Sayaka’s eyes, gives you only one choice.
You will hide. No mortal ever slayed a god and ran free from eternal punishment.
You know that, and you know it well.
So you will wait until the morning, until the finger of truth pierces you through. You will wait until the weight of reality crushes you between its fists, and you will wait until that inevitable hammer strikes down.
You will wait until they hate you, and scorn you and loathe you. And you will scream, thrash and deny it to the end, because even your life isn’t enough to repent for what you have done.
Your love lies in pieces.
You murdered an angel.
Nothing can save you now.