Some memories aren't meant to be revived.
Especially when they're lurking in the deceitful creases and folds of the treacherous night.
*extended summary inside*
His veins are leaking invisible blood and chromatic shapes flit through his eyes. His head is heavy with the thickness of wanting to cry, but his fake bravado stops the salty substance from staining his cheeks.
He loves Miriam. But he loves Miriam like a storm chaser loves hurricanes, bearing all just to witness such a spectacle. Putting everything on the tip of a blade, and praying it won't capsize.
He saw Miriam as an euphoric thrill- and his own sardonic, sociopathic mind lead to her demise.
How many ways can you kill someone without stopping their heart? How many times can you use them until they have given away, everything?
Miriam was a balloon, blown up with falseness and laughter that turns shrill at the end. When she no longer induced pleasure, and soon emitted fragility and vulnerability;
she was popped with the deceitful fingers of a skilled poker player. Just a card in a deck of many, plucked out by chance and cultivated until she could only bring joy or obstinate levels of pain.
Like a craftsmen, when nick had crafted Miriam from a shy, timid waif, he had injected a lethal dose of himself in to Miriam- accidentally it seems.
When Miriam finally began to fight back with the vigour of Nicks tyrannical self, Nick had enough.
So he cut all strings with his pearly white teeth, and watched as Miriam eroded.
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