twisted beautiful things

xli. sacrifice

xli. sacrifice

please-my goodness-play the attached song when reading, especially gianna's pov bc it just works-okay just trust me omg I'm crying

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amir

I barely take in the contents of my tranquil room when I burst inside, feet headed immediately to my closet.

I'd left it on the top shelf, hidden safely behind odds and ends that would conceal the top hat the ghost had ever so graciously bestowed upon me. It takes me a minute to get to it; I knock off old pieces of art, random water bottles, books, papers, all raining down on the floor in the wake of my fear.

My heart is quite literally pounding in my chest. Leaping-bounding- struggling-

I feel it knocking on my ribcage, whispering in my ear that this isn't going to end well.

It tells me something is going to go very, very wrong.

When I finally recover the top hat, it's covered in a fine layer of dust. I stare at it for a moment, as wave after wave of debilitating fear run the length of my spine to lodge in my throat.

This hat represented old anguish and confusion, the kind of terror that is something you never forget. It is a type of trepidation that will always be at the back of your mind, whispering those things that weaken your knees and crumble your castle to dust. 

You're not good enough.

You're invisible.

You're not important.

I force myself out of my reverie and turn, anxious to get back to my friends when something cold wraps around my ankle and yanks hard. I go flying to the floor, that goddamned hat flying out of my hands as my butt hits the floor with strikes of pain following.

Falling hard on your butt is paralyzing, but what's more paralyzing is the sight of Mr. Top Hat Man crawling out from underneath my bed like the Devil himself, dressed as a tall man with big black eyes, adorned in a suit and tie. His figure is crooked and mishappen- there's the odd lump disfiguring his body, and his skin sags dangerously low on his bones.

Before I can even begin to move, he crawls on top of me.

He pins me down, but even if he hadn't, the horror that sat on my chest like a crushing boulder wouldn't have let me move anyway.

He stares down at me almost curiously, tilting his head to the side as I'm completely frozen underneath him. My heartbeat has sped up several notches, and I'm sure he can sense it. He leans down, his head coming closer to mine, his head tilting this way and that as if he were examining me.

His hand reaches out beside me, slowly, and he grabs something. I realize it's the hat, but not before he yanks it over my head, closing it tight under my chin so it cuts off my precious air supply.

What's even more terrifying is that my vision is completely obscured by the hat, along with the air being quickly sucked out of my lungs.

Something in me snaps; I suppose it's human instinct that when one is in danger, it does everything it can to preserve itself, even after being completely frozen at first.

Especially when you can't breathe.

Limbs flail. Heart's fail.

Emotions run at an all-time high, yet I register none of it