I ran after him. I ran until my chest felt like icicles were stabbing into my skin, freezing each breath I took. I ran until the leaves around me were almost like a green blur; as though someone smeared moss around the entire wood.

I ran until he passed the gate.

The wood pulled me back with all its power and strength gained from thousands of years of undisturbed peace. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the nearby trees had formed a net out of their outstretched branches, wrapping around my waist and preventing me from going any further. There I remained, my nails digging into the aged mortar between the greying bricks of the fully intact pillar. The twisted metal gates might as well have been locked shut; I couldn’t move past the threshold.

Peter continued to walk towards the village. He didn’t grace me with any fleeting backward glances. His decision to leave me was as immovable as the long forgotten gate that now worked against me. I opened my mouth to try and call this name, if not to stop him in his tracks at least to see those mesmerizing eyes once more. What was worse, I couldn’t even speak. I couldn’t even give myself the satisfaction of hearing his name echo off the trees one last time.