The screaming of a goner in the pouring rain. V.W. would never forget that sound. The cigarets, the high heels crashing on the pavement stones, the hunger that growled deep in her stomach as she walked down the city, wrapped in her washed out coat, incredibely crude, incredebly monstruous in her bare humanity and the need, the aching need from the depths of her chest to the tip of her fingers to just destroy something. It all came down to that evening, she'd decide. She was a lone wolf, leaving footprints of her violence anywhere she stepped, breaking the cigarets and the stones and the floor like she wanted to rip the world and reach the core, like she longed for it, craved for it. It was hunting hour -except no one was out, blurry silhouets long fading far away from the wrath of the heartbroken sky.
Until she found it. Lone, maybe as lone as her, wrecked and wild, a goner -and bones so thin she could just break in two. Feral.
What she believed would be her pray, turned out to be her perdition.
YOU ARE READING
Unravelled
Romance"Now, you have the power to punish. This is it, you have the right to destroy, the ability to tear my life apart. You have my whole consent. This is all you need, isn't it? Because everything is okay, as long as you have consent. I'm an adult, fully...
