Black Roses {Skephalo}

Day Seven

————— 24 days remaining ————— Sunday, January 7th, 2:34 am
Status 1: stage 3 - Poppy
Status 2: stage 2 - Skye

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There's something wrong with the willow tree. It doesn't looks the same as it did on that first night.

The once luscious green leaves have shrivelled a little, the tree bowing in sadness instead of in grace. The river is calm, the rushing noise the only some in my ears as I look out across the water.

The only thing I was given is my notebook. Just the one I own, in the same state as I remember it being before. The number three glows brightly in the shadows the branches cast over me like looming figure. It's as if someone's watching over me, and not in a good way.

There's no guardian angel here... something else.

There's a boy sat directly opposite me on the other side of the river. The forest of oak trees behind casts an ominous shadow over him, shielding his face. He clutched something in his hands, which I can only make out because of the glowing number on the front of it. I can't see what the number is.

The winter night is cold, biting into my skin as I wrap my hoodie sleeves over my hands and shiver. The boy on the other side does the same, as if mirroring my actions.

A cloud of fog spreads over us, distorting the landscape and hiding the figure from my view. Someone appears in where I presume the middle of the river is, but something is off about them.

They appear to be a young boy, maybe about the age of fourteen. I'd describe him in more detail, but I didn't get a chance before he changed. He morphs into the form of a young woman, then a teenage girl.

The figure keeps changing between people, young and old, boys and girls. They're all the same, a milky white colour, faded at the edges like an apparition. I'd call them ghosts but they aren't transparent, more of an opaque milky-white colour.

They settle back on the fourteen year old boy. The figure, or figures, turns to me.

Their eyes are all black.

Perfect spheres, no white in their eyes. They look at my notebook, a weak smile appearing across their face. Then they turn away, back towards where the boy on the other side of the river was sat. I can't see their face.

The figure disappears, but the fog remains. I'm left in silence for a few minutes, unable to move or look away. Then an ear splitting scream fills the dark night, crying out in pain or horror. It's a familiar voice.

It sounds like me.

The apparition appears again, laughing maniacally as it reveals needle-sharp teeth. It turns to me, watching my face with a wicked smile. Then it morphs, but I recognise this person.

It's me.

Like staring into a mirror, the apparition turns into myself. Even without the raven hair and chocolate eyes, it's unmistakably me. Kind of like me in ghost form, but with blood red eyes.

The eyes start running, tears of blood falling down their face. Bloody red flower petals erupt out of their eyes, falling into the river below. The mess turns the river red, dissolving the peaceful blue. The river has become a murder scene.

I watch the vision of myself melt into the river, the fog seeming to dissolve with it. I watch the petals wash away, the river returning to it's previous.

When the fog clears, I see someone stood in front of me. It's Darryl, in full colour, looking human. He reaches out a hand to me, smiling warmly. I sigh deeply in relief. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you."