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Blogging is for Squares! :D
A blog of my adventures in Gaialand. Follow me keh?
The Cryer... (Prologue) ...
In the hum of electricity surrounding my home I hear the faint sounds of smothered sobs threatening to turn into tortured cries. It's only a matter of time, I think, before reality weighs heavy on the shoulders of the unknown soul. Who could have inflicted such a pain that this beings only choice is to restrain her cries, bury her sorrow. In the darkness of this room illuminated only by the faint glow of a distant sun, can I truly see my fears laid out before me. And yet, I do not cry, I do not scream. No, I am silent, pondering. I have not yet lost anything, nor have I felt pain as that of the unknown soul. Although I do feel pain, it is not my own. But the pain radiating from beyond these walls. She is drowning in her agony, unable to see a future past the torture. She sobs softly certainly willing to surrender to death if it might confront her. Shackles so tightly clamped on the frail wrist of a dying prisoner, shake lightly at her movements. I hear a voice now and adrenaline is released into my bloodstream. I tug on my own shackles, helplessly fighting to defend this unknown captive. When the door opens I take in immediately the figure before me. Not a woman, but a girl. Small, fragile and as it may seem dying. Her blue gray eyes are red with tears and intense with a regret that is unknown to me. I stare at her quizzically until she is shoved deeper into my chamber and the door is locked behind her. Who, who is this girl? The tortured soul I have shared pain with. She is battered bruised cut and broken. She wears nothing bu t a bloodied rag dress and her dark auburn hair falls in tendrils past her waist. She walks across the room never moving her unnerving eyes from mine. Among my fears laid out in front of me, she picks up a knife. I was going to tell her not to do it. Not to kill herself her in the darkness of my chamber. but my words were caught in the lump in my throat because she stood and walked over kneel in front of me. My eyes went wide as she held the knife, not to her throat, but mine...


To be continued...





 
 
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