Fulfill the Prophecies

Red

1/2/20

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"Nature is wonderful."

She picks up a fallen leaf, twirling it around in her fingers, awe drawn across her face, a longing look in her eyes.

"Wonderful, beautiful, mystical, precious, delicate, fragile, fleeting. All of these words describe what nature is."

"This leaf is red, but it can not simply be confined to that, no, it is so much more. It isn't quite crimson, it's too bright for that, and yet it's too dark for scarlet, too brilliant for carmine, and too dull for candy."

"Nature can't be bound by human words, only humans can be. Nature isn't tied down, it's free, unrestricted, nothing can hold it back. Such is the glory of nature."

Holding the leaf up to the light she admires it, caresses it, as if it were her life.

"Red, I like red. Nature, I like nature. I like it when the two mix, it isn't as rare as one might think, however it is still marvelous to behold whenever it occurs."

The leaf drifts slowly to the floor. She dropped it. Stepping forward she places her foot atop it, twisting it, tearing and shredding it to pieces.

Hundreds of pieces? Thousands? Millions? It matters not. The fact remains, it's broken, shattered, destroyed.

"If you ask, people will tell you green is the color of life. A childish notation. Life's color is red. Why do you think the heart has appeared painted red as far back as the 14th century, when it is a vital part in keeping us alive and thriving?"

Her feet thump against the ground as she continues to advance slowly. She's in no hurry.

"Our blood too is red. The very thing that flows completely and wholly throughout us, red."

"Red is the color of life."

Blood swirls around, mixing with the discarded pieces of the abandoned leaf, red with red. Life, both drained away.

"Even if life is red and nature is beauty, the two are so very breakable. A red blade could spill the red of life, and a red flame the red of nature."

Red. She keeps going on about red. All I can see is red. The red of my blood spilled everywhere. The red of her lipstick. The red in my vision, red of rage.

Again she advances, crouching down.

I'm sprawled on the cold stone ground, my back propped up slightly by the wall behind me. It's the kind of cold that reaches the very depths of your soul, freezing you at your core, convincing you all your hope is gone.

Hands cuffed in metal raised above me. My wrists bruised and bloodied. My feet uncuffed, she knows I can't raise them to kick, to fight, not after what she did.

I'm in pain, yet I'm not. I hurt, yet I don't. I'm broken, broken like the leaf, smashed beneath her foot.

She has her legs on either side of me. Hands at the sides of my head. Knees on the blood soaked ground. Straddling me, not escape.

"You too are red. So beautiful. So delicate. Breakable, with a simple blade, and you crumple into nothingness."

I manage to scoff, ever so quietly, a sound that could easily be lost in the silence. Turning my head I look away, eyes silt at the effort.

"Now now, honey, there's no need for that."

She sits atop me. The fabric of her silky white dress settling around her, fanning itself across my chest. Reaching her hand out, she grasps my chin using it to move my head back, peering down at my face. Forcing me to look back.