March

April

May

June

July  

I remember those words from the vet when my dog broke her leg.

"It's a clean break. Hardly any damage."

I continue to stumble through the forest, my breathe ragged, and I look up at the broken patches of stars through the emerald canopy that was the decidous forest. I suddenly hear leaves shuffling and I resume running from my hunters- those hunters being the people of the village and reality.

Strange. I look down at my arms and legs and see several tears in the fabrics of my pants and shirt, and several deep and bloody gashes in my skin. But I don't feel them. As if all my feeling and emotion had gone away with her...strange.

A clean break.

Ha. The Divine Comedy, of a breakup of epic proportions could cause little to no damage. Ha. I needed her.

Hardly any damage.

The biggest lie yet, my torn and ragged heart would tell you. I felt as though I was sick, and the months flew by in seconds. I lost all my friends- but I didn't care. All I cared about was for her- her sweet smile, her violently pink hair, her wide brown eyes- She was my cognac, my brandy, my rum. My sweet apple pie. My best friend.

Someone breaks through the trees ahead of me and pins me to the forest floor.

Very well-written. c: I would only revise the strange beginning and ending that one paragraph, but I think that's what you were going for in the first place, so. *shrug*

I like it.