Kari's Drabbles

Never Ending Dance

He takes my hand, we've done this dance so many times before. Him in white, looking like an angel, despite the scars across his face and the roughness of his hands. If I didn't know any better I would have thought him one. And then there's me, dressed in blood red, a fitting color, not to my complexion, but to my inner emotions.

He holds me close to him, and we begin the dance, though there is no music. We start out in a waltz, but it quickly becomes more. He twirls me around, and pulls me back to him, putting a finger under my chin. I push away, turning the dance into a sort of tango, but end up in his arms once again. We both spin, my dress flaring out as we do. There is no audience, but there comes clapping from the ethereal beyond.

He spins me out at arms length, then pulls me back to him, and pauses the dance in the middle of a dip. To onlookers, it might have looked as if her were about to kiss me, but they would be mistaken. I see him smirk before he drops me, and I'm falling into an abyss. I don't scream, I don't panic. I just let myself fall, and close my eyes.There's no wind, or any sign that I'm falling, but I know I am.

I wait for the familiar feel of the noose around my neck that stops my fall. All too soon, I feel it around my neck. I don't struggle, though it feels like I really am being strangled. I see him approaching from the distance. He has his hands in the pockets of his dress suit. His eyes silver eyes glint as he looks up at me. He knows all too well why I come to him.

He undoes the noose, releasing me. I fall into his arms. He's frowning, and he asks for the millionth time why I've come. I tell him the same thing I've always told him. He's the only one who's there. He sighs and puts his hands on my shoulders, leaning me back a bit. He puts a hand gently to my neck, tracing over the red mark, now fresh once again. He looks unhappy.

I pick a pill bottle off the ground, and watch the bottle dissolve, leaving just the pills that were inside. I look up at him. He makes me curl my hand around them, and suddenly they're dust in my hand. I drop them on the ground, and raise my other hand. In it is a gun. He puts his hand over mine, and the gun turns to a bouquet of roses.

He shakes his head and snaps his fingers. I turn to see a dark doorway. He's sending me away. He knows I'll just be back again, but he sends me off anyway. In the whole scheme of things, he really is the only one I can trust anymore. He's the only one who really cares, and it breaks my heart, because the Devil isn't supposed to be kind.