Slasher imagines

Lost spirits lead the lot

Her legs carried her as they have for long while.
Hasty and desperate was the feeling.
She had no thought, no need at the moment.
She just needed to get out of the shrub.
These wreched woods.
The other girl, so young yet so pale stricken, crossed the two by hands.
The sickly ran ahead with the dusk.
Seeming to know where she was leading.
Sunlight seeping - Stretching across the scene.
It grew closer, until she emerged.
The healthy stands, heaving, in the open field.
She yelped in glee yet no glee was yelped in returned.
She peered around confused, where had that blooming flower gone to?
Her head snapped to the thick leaves once again.
Had she forgotten one so dear to heart?
There it stood, and where it must because of where she lay.
Sick and Grimace, waving with a smile so seldom no cancer could out run such sad beauty.
The woman looked to her hand, finding nothing but a small doll.
As she cried, blurred eyes cast back up, searching for the ones lost to the light.
Nothing but dust and bullied leaves.
Yet another traveler to spread her tale to more unbelievers.