Snow pelted down like shards of glass, the roaring winds screaming out, the windows rattling against their framing. The flicker of a candle fought to illuminate against the darkness of the cabin, the white candle flame dancing wildly on the tip as it flooded the coffee table with its light and rose in the air to provide a dim outline of the single room cabin. Tired green eyes gleamed in its light, cherry red cheeks contrasting with her pale flesh, dark strands clumped in knots that cascaded down her shoulders. Her body shivered, violent shakes rattling her legs and teeth chattering crazily, fingernails digging in her palms as her hands snugged inside her coat pockets.
The girl came to a stand, boots scuffing the hardwood floors as she dragged her heavy feet along toward the small kitchen in the corner. A backpack settled on the counter, looking only half filled and deflated, its green material beginning to fray from much use, stains of browns and reds smeared sporadically. Her hands trembled as they met the cold air, missing the small warmth her coat pocket provided her. She lifted the bag, peering inside at its contents, digging a hand out to pull out a small can of peaches, the last of her food. A frown twisting on her chapped lips, the rumbles of her stomache mingling with the howls of the winter storm.
The peaches held a sourness, the texture like slime on her tongue, thick to swallow especially with no water to wash it down. Her face scrunched up, holding her breath as she brought the spoon of peaches up to her blood red lips that crusted with dead skin, then she swallowed it greedily trying to satisfy the hunger that clawed at her. The dark haired girl just hoped her last meal before death wouldn't be spoiled peaches.
After the pitiful meal she called dinner, she took a dusty blanket out from the linen closet that settled beside the snug bathroom, the dust causing her to release a boisterous sneeze and hastily wipe her nose with her coat sleeve. She settled back down on the musty smelling couch, hugging the blanket close to radiant warmth over her body. Her eyes staring back at the candle for a moment, letting the exhaustion in her bones take its toll, eyelids growing heavy until she finally drifted to a tense sleep.
It felt only a second passed by when the girl fluttered her eyes back open, an off feeling settling in the pit of her stomache. The storm still howled, the candle still ignited, the room remained in place, but something felt wrong. She sat up, glancing around warily, her hand reaching for the gun that snugged in her waistband, the cold metal making her finger flinch back briefly. She then stood, the heavy metal gripped tightly in her hand, thumb resting over the safety and index on the trigger.
Her steps light as she approached the window closest to her, plaid curtains fluttering from the cold winds that managed their way in through the rattling window. Her opposite hand reached out before tugging one side of the curtain to the side, greeted with ice that caused the dark sky and white snow to appear distorted and blurry, reminding her of those funny mirrors at circuses. She could almost smell the buttery popcorn and hear the crunch of peanut shells under her feet, the feeling of her hand clutched tightly in a bigger one. She blinked the distant memory away, refocusing as she saw her own current reflection in the window, about to turn her head away from the unpleasant sight. Suddenly, a distorted figure appeared, stopping in front of the window and staring at her, her body paralyzed for a moment as she stared into their dark eyes. Time seemed to race, flashing by to the point she hardly registered her surroundings. The front door thrown open forcefully, a couple men stumbling their way in from the storm, the cold winds and snow scorning her flesh, guns flying up at her face as she did the same.
"Looky here boys!" One cackled, smirking victoriously as he eyed the girl. Her hands trembling as she point the gun at his head, her green eyes narrowing in slits. A few other men followed inside, closing the door behind them, the room feeling smaller than ever, the girl feeling suffocated in the space as she tried to calm herself. "What's ya name?" He asked, slowly lowering his gun in an act of gaining a little trust, he waved his hand out at the others signaling the same, which they followed begrudgingly.
YOU ARE READING
morph // C.Grimes
Fanfiction"The hardest lesson in the world: maybe it's just that when things are gone they're gone. They ain't coming back." ~Cormac McCarthy The world is nothing but a frame of what it used to be. Plagued with the dead that walk with jarred teeth. T...
