The glow from the grass-scented candle allowed shadows to dance across my room, and as I sat in the corner, I welcomed them.
"Dance for me. Dance with me," I said while using my short nails to chip away the paint at the base. Despondency, it was in the air, and for some reason I could not pin point why, but I knew the darkness had to be in my head.
Fluttering, soft, dazzeling wings, that's all I could see on most days -and those were the good days. On bad days, ones like today, moments like now, there were pictures falling in front of me; memories all being dropped, slowly, one by one for me to see and relive all over again.
I was not always this girl, or maybe I was, but never had anything to bring it out of me; it all revealed itself the second another planet decided to collide with my own. I had to become crazy, to be their kind of normal. I admit, I enjoyed it.
"You ruined me," I whispered to the pictures. The paint was turning to dust as I rubbed my fingers together. Slowly I licked the tip of my index finger. Mmm, so not all paint tastes the same.
Another picture was dropped; it was of the water tower, a month after my birthday.
"The beginning."
YOU ARE READING
His Collection
Mystery / ThrillerDeep in the rural plains of Montana, a charming, half-demented young man with vitiligo, kidnaps young Blanca due to her open-mind, intellect, and kind, accepting nature. She is held captive far from civilization in his small home along with another...
