The Figures

Death

You make your way across your neighborhood slowly, every step seeming like work. You've had one of the worst days ever, and you know you need to cool down and get some air, but at the same time you feel like curling up and disappearing. The park is nearby. Well, park is a loose term. It only contains an old, small play set and a few rows of sickly trees that fight each other for nutrients. Plopping yourself down on one of the swings, you fight back the invasion of emotions that assault your brain. The chains creak as you lazily swing. A breeze carries along a nip of cold. You shiver involuntarily, still lost in thought. The leaves of the sickly trees rustle lightly. Looking up, you watch the branches wave. Bare. Putting your feet to the ground, you slowly get up, looking along the tree line. It wasn't the trees that made that noise. Yet again you hear something softly rustling; this time, your awareness is sharp enough to recognize it as wings. You search the skies, searching in vain for birds. By now, most have moved south. Your blood runs cold as you hear another set of footsteps. Scanning across the tree line, you spot a pale figure, a young woman, slowly moving along, her light steps barely reaching your ears. Behind her are two large shadows. Your mind slowly assembles the shadows as a stray ray of moonlight momentarily illuminates her form. Large, grey wings follow behind her, exploding beautifully out of her back. Her skirt is torn in some places and her raven-black hair is wild. She turns, looking directly at you. Her untamed hair frames her fair face and her large stormy-grey, red-rimmed eyes. Her chest is covered only by an entire human rib cage that crisscrosses over her snowy flesh. Her chest is full and her skin is smooth. The rib cage, however, is not bleached, but dirty. Her presence is both reassuring and terrifying. With each footstep her legs come out far, a movement both hunter-like and graceful. Her eyes, still glistening with tears, penetrate deep into you. In that glance, she understands you, and you, her. Your brain somehow does not question or deny her presence. Tracing the trunk of a large tree, she emerges from the rows of sickly plants, facing you and outstretching a hand. You, rooted in place, reach out. You can feel her empathy, her pain. It almost seems like a tangible force between you two. A teary smile comes across her delicate face. Your fingers brush. A flurry of images flood your mind. Failure. Everything you never achieved, never got. Lost memories. Repressed memories. You jerk your hand away and practically fall over. Her smile fades, replaced by a look of apologetic horror. The tears in her eyes spill over. She cries out to you, asking for forgiveness and claiming that she can't help it. The weight of your life. The weight of your failure. It all falls upon you. It seems to almost be a physical weight. It suddenly becomes hard to breathe. She falls to her knees, blubbering, her wings falling limp behind her. You fall onto the ground, nearly paralyzed by the weight of it all.

"My sisters told me... They told me they told me they told me!" Her wings tremble with emotion. "They were right to ostracize me." She looks at you, her grey eyes slowly turning a glowing, deep shade of red. Her wings snap back and her delicate face hardens. Standing up, her pale face darkens. "Curse them. Curse their warnings. Curse my flesh!" Red scars appear on her soft arms, bright and recent. Her wings outstretch, no longer soft, but threatening. "And curse you and your humanity!" she yells at you. The pale figure tromps towards you and thrusts her hand downward. You feel a sharp tug in your chest. Your eyes stare vacantly at her. She quickly pulls her hand back. Her pale hand is stained red, and a crimson liquid drips from her fingers. In her hand is a heart. Your heart. The weight of your life lifts. A darkness grows at the edge of your vision. She smiles widely, wider than a human mouth should smile. The last thing you see as your vision darkens for the last time is the pale figure walking away slowly, your heart in hand, crimson blood dripping from her fingers.