Hushed words fell from your mouth, tumbling to the floor. Nonsense mumbles, chasing each other, running in circles. Your eyelids fluttered softly, the green-blue veins contrasting greatly with your pale skin. Slivers of silver moonlight shone into the room, casting shadows across your slim figure.
Shadows that pooled around your collar bones and twisted around your fingers; climbing around you and holding you tightly, giving you a false sense of comfort. The kind of security that would leave you bruised and covered in cuts because you trusted all too quickly. Because you had faith in everything and everyone. And that was why I loved you, but it was what caused the shadows to grow into vines.
Twisting and turning, they wrapped around you. They held you so tightly that you couldn't breathe. So tightly that your ribs cracked and your voice was silenced. So tightly that you fell limp and the vines turned back into shadows, taking you away.
YOU ARE READING
Dying Embers
General FictionNonsense writing, too short to be short stories, and too different to be put together.
