Laura

Laura | Four.

[False.]

-

Laura woke up with dead-cold water burning her skin.

She shook her head and her body.

"Wake up, witch!" a voice echoed.

"What? Where am I?" Laura tried to lift her legs up, but it was chained.

She felt numb. From cold and from fright.

"What do ya think?" said a man with a strong accent.

"Prison?" she whispered. "Why am I in prison?" she uttered a yelp as her hands was sliced by an edgy stone.

Red ink streamed down.

"Why are you doing this to our town?" said the man.

"What? I don't understand."

"A thick one, eh? That game's too far gone, sweetheart. You don't have to play innocent. Better speak now or never."

"Please, let me out! I do not deserve those inklings! I have nothing against this town, believe me!"

"Martin?" the man hiding in the shadows stepped forward. In faint nightlight, Laura could barely see the man's strong features.

"What?" asked Laura.

"Martin Hernandez! The boy you cursed a week ago!" he roared.

"The young smith?"

"Yes! At nightfall, days before the boy died, many have seen you wandering around the vicinity. Good news madame, you succeeded upon mercilessly murdering the poor boy."

"Is that what you are accusing me? A crime I am not aware of? This is absurd!" she defended herself.

Laura felt wet, weak and naked. She endures the pain of a false accusation and throbbing hands.

Laura's hands.

Her hand was painted red and the wound was nowhere to be seen anymore. She followed the pain and found where the slit was planted. Laura tried to pressurise it to stop the bleeding. It hurts.

"You were the only outcast in this town. Civilisation was not at your reach. In retrospect, you should have left after casting curses upon most of the townspeople."

"Ridiculous! I am not a devil's spawn! In this town, my mother gave birth to me. I was born under God's spell. The spell of LIFE!"

"How dare you let the name of God seep out from that filthy demon mouth of yours!" the man took a step into the light, revealing his monstrous features.

Laura fidgeted her shawl. Torn. It was severely torn through and through. Laura, at this point, lets water escape from her burgundy soul. She cried in most forms.

Laura felt evicted. Not from exile, but from sanity. Shadows existed from corner to corner, slowly consuming, slowly devouring. Questions roam the streets of her mind like vagabonds.

Why the condemnation?

Why the accusation?

Why me of all people?

Who am I?

Laura could not be loved. This was the only curse the town was in a truce with. They will never love Laura and Laura will never experience the desirable torment of being loved. In truth reversed, Laura was the cursed one.

Laura enters a trance. She slowly closed her eyes and swallowed the dark infinity...

Laura held onto something. Something that resembles a human leg...

It moved.

*****

Author's note:

I'm sorry it had to be this long. Juices flowed unexpectedly from my brain, I swear. I promise it won't happen again.

Thank you for keeping up. Think I'm craving for votes. Can I have one, maybe? :)

In one sentence, tell me why I should not point my cursor at the delete button?

Keep calm & solidify your emotions!

-s o l i d.