Rating: PG-13
Genre:
Angst/Tragedy
Pairing:
Jibbs
Summary:
I stand still; devastation is before me. Moments ago she was here and moments ago, her life was taken. Memories are all we have left; the physical is gone.
Warnings:
Judgement Day spoilers.
Notes: Written for Kay's Poetry Challenge. This style is called Prose Poetry by the way. :) Written from Gibbs' POV

- - -

PART 1: her life was taken not her memory

I stand still; devastation is before me. Moments ago she was here and moments ago, her life was taken. I stand, looking at the scene before me, I am not sure what to feel; there are too many emotions: anger, sadness, regret, guilt. The realisation that I could have done more; more to stop this; more to save her life. I stand. The dust is settling. There is silence; no one dares to speak. Sound is absent; there is only emotion: anger, sadness, regret, guilt. What I feel the others feel too, for she meant a lot to us all. Then she was taken. Here, I stand; looking around the diner, studying the details, the surroundings. I am oblivious to any noise, I do not hear Tony and Ziva approach me. They're speaking, though I do not know what they're saying; no sound. I stand; looking at what is before me. My silent gaze eventually broken; I leave. I cannot look at the devastation any longer. My heart has been broken again, without a chance to mend. I stand; I look back; she lost her life here; all I can ask is, "Why her?"

PART 2: memories are all we have; the physical is gone

I am here in her house; alone. An eerie silence fills the room (her study). She spent most of her time in here. The room is essentially her (her father's before her.) They have memories here. I look at the desk, I see a letter, and my name; one of two words: Dear Jethro. I see she was afraid. Afraid for what would become of her; of us. Fear was not Jenny Shepard. That was not her. She was overcome by something she wasn't. My phone rings; what was incomplete before shall be completed now. This has to end. The woman enters; conversation starts. . .

Bang.

It is over.

I am here; the fire lit.

Memories are all we have left; the physical is gone.