Devoured Destiny (Completed, but being rewritten and edited.)

Thought Thirty-Two. - Persephany.

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“Be to her, Persephone,

All the things I might not be;

Take her head upon your knee.

She that was so proud and wild,

Flippant, arrogant and free,

She that had no need of me,

Is a little lonely child

Lost in Hell,—Persephone,

Take her head upon your knee;

Say to her, “My dear, my dear,

It is not so dreadful here.” 

― Edna St. Vincent Millay

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I find myself exhausted by eight in the evening, and roll into bed wearing a night gown. This heat is really starting to get to me, and even though the house is a lot cooler then outside, I am still sweating like a hog. I spread my legs out, knowing that Neven won't be in bed for at least three more hours. He likes to stay up later then me, making sure everything is safe. 

I think that he is being a little over protective, but I can't blame him. With our baby due in just about a month, and everything that has happened in the past, I think that it's okay to be a little cautious. 

Hugging a pillow close to me, I let myself relax and fall into a deep sleep. 

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I am sitting by the pond, watching as the fish swim past my feet. A soft breeze tousles my hair, and the night stars surrender their light from above. I feel so at ease, so peaceful. As habit, I place my hands on my stomach. Except it is flat, back to my normal size. 

Panic strikes me and I'm overwhelmed with fear. Tears threaten, and I want to scream into the night. I   frantically twist my head around, back and forth. Looking for some sort of explanation. 

What is going on? 

Where's my baby?

Quickly standing up, I wobble, a little off balance. I'm so light headed, and confused. I listen to the night. Such darkness looms, yet it seems like a natural night. I don't hear anything, nor do I see anything out of the usual. Except, why am I out here so late? 

Where is my 'little one'?

I automatically throw my hand to my stomach, searching. 

Shaking my head, I wonder what is happening. This is so bizarre. 

Suddenly I catch the end of a noise. A small voice, just a whisper. 

Walking past the pond, and to the side of the house and into the large garden with the tall grass, I can hear the voice more clearly. I'm getting closer. The grass is tall, and the bloomed flowers are almost as tall as I am. It is like a beautiful exotic jungle, except for the voice. 

Like a moth to a flame, I am being sucked in by the sweet lullaby. A succulent unknown force, making me follow the smooth voice. The voice is very clear now, and a girl is singing. She is singing a sad, melancholic tune. I can't make out the words, it's as if she is singing in a different language, but just by the melody I can tell that it is full of dread.