Hauntingly Beautiful Girls

"Being Held"

A breath in. A breath out.

Scents and sounds. The scents are wrong. Six different scents of absolute freshness, here about in a swirl within the smell of those purple flowers.

No biological effect at all. Like tasting six different types of berries in pure inward form. That is what their breaths smell like.

Though, it is this coming out of complete darkness. No awareness and then finding yourself somewhere. It is completely unnerving. So many of death's children ready to find the unsuspecting living.

Finding yourself suddenly somewhere. With no clue as to the surrounding things. How you got here.

This must be something to do with those that want my future for themselves. The person behind me shudders and lets out a mild groan. I calm my agitated condition, and the one behind me slowly relaxes.

Yesterday, when I opened my eyes it changed the sounds.

Opening my eyes, the sounds and feelings stay consistent.

I am surrounded by the six that wore cloths. Many of the colored cloths are strewn aside (the cloth tubes for the feet and legs, some of the cloths around the rump).

They are folded into the big soft white cloth that enfolds me, and some have other big soft white cloths too.

Their hair is long and moves in the slightest of wafts. Except for the head, their bodies have just small hairs, and no thick ones. Like babies can have.

I close my eyes again. This thing of big cloths, it is so unnatural. Yet, somehow compelling.

Like the hands of a mother for those hundreds of first days. Like the hands of my life tutor who carried me and taught me everything about death's children.

If this is a sweet death dream handed of the dream givers, it is a nice one.

I breathe in, and I breathe out.

The same is true of these six. They have no rhythm of concentration in breathing. The kind of breathing babies might do.

The kind of breathing you had as a child before you learned to breathe in control (so you can stay vigilant for all the days of your life and live).