Gone With the Wind

It was as if she had never existed. The wind slowly caresses my face, lulling me into a false sense of calmness. Meanwhile, the scent of blood floats through the air. Before me, you stand, beckoning me forth silently with eyes filled with adoration. I wish I could go with you, love, but I can't. No matter how much I wish to believe this isn't true, you aren't real. HGHP, TMRHP.