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I looked into her eyes, focusing not the vacant emptiness of her soul, but the eerie depth of the silence she held. I watched as the blood flowed like rivers from her veins, paling her skin. Her lips twitched and her chest heaved, cracking the dried blood along her body. This seven minutes was almost over, starting a new and slow death to go all the way back.
The obsessive love led her to this, she could never escape the thought that she was in danger. She would turn at the sound of the wind, and carry such unneeded blades... I was the reason she was bleeding out for the eighth time, and dying for the ninth...The reason she was, is, so paranoid. Falling asleep every other hour after waking to the sound of her own ragged breathing in such fear.
And now, I am the reason she is dead.
Her head hung limply, her eyes blank, not even staring back into mine. It was a beautiful sight, the dry blood plastered onto her skin as her chest is still, her lips cracked and parted, stained by her own red lipstick. Her hands barely open as they hang loosely in the air.
This is the first and last time I would be able to look at her like this... For every time it is different. But soon, she will awaken, remember, and thrash and use her beautiful voice to end this dreadful silence with a pained scream...
The four minute mark. The resuscitation must begin, or she will never be close to who she was before. My mouth touches hers in a quick brush of the lips, mine almost as red as hers now. I click the switch and a bright blue shock dances behind her glazing eyes, the colour barely coming back into her skin. Her scar covered body and her original paleness bring back so many wonderful memories....
Watching her sleep, protecting her from harm... Staring at her physical beauty as her mental is blocked off and hidden to me.. Her eyes, the only windows to it all.
The words she spoke in mysterious tongues, mentioning names we left behind long ago... I think she was visiting them in her dreams; forbidden to those who know what they're doing...
But how could I be mad at her? The one I love? The reason I'm still alive? Whether she wants to accept the truth or not? Weather she knows what that truth is... Or not?
She's the reason this is happening again. She's at fault when it comes to everything in her life... It's all her fault, not mine! Why must she blame me?!
But we shouldn't fret over this now... Not while she starts to thrash and scream her beautiful scream.
 The-Poison-Muffin · Sat Jun 09, 2012 @ 03:00am · 0 Comments |
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