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Her first person pov:
14.10.13
I walk alone and yet the feeling that someone else is lurking in the shadows haunts me, like a needle pricking my skin I can feel eyes on me as if someone were searching for me from far far away.
Pushing my way through the dark woods, I stumble over roots and rocks, scrape my hands to shreds against the bark of trees, and run my throat ragged trying to gulp down air to my frantic lungs, but I dare not scream or cry for help. Not when the unknown is searching for me.
Shaking in the cold, I struggle deeper into the woods, but my legs beg to disobey me and turn back to whatever waits from the place I am fleeing. My eyes too, and my head starts to run back around, but my foot catches on a fallen branch and I tumble to the ground.
Falling blindly into the dark, I feel thorns and barbs bite my skin and bring my arms up to shield my face and head, pulling my legs up to my stomach I crash through the bushes and branches.
Down, down, down,
And then I stop.
Waiting a full minute before opening my eyes again, I shake on the hard ground of whatever pit I've fallen into and wait for the pain to begin again. But when nothing comes for me, I slowly bring my hands down away from my face and behold what has become of myself.
Fresh red scratches cover me from my fingertips to my toes, like bites of a thousand knives nipping at me they decorate my pale skin. My clothes are torn and ripped, allowing more air to my body and sending another fracking chill to take over my bones.
But when I turn my eyes to my surroundings all else melts from the mind.
I've fallen into a ditch, six feet deep and about seven feet by seven feet wide, a crater, a circle, and surrounding the edge, a wall of thorn bushes. Strong and black, thorny and hostile, sadistic in their catch.
Suddenly my eyes catch on something I didn't notice before. As if cast down for me, to join me in this trap, is a single white rose. But something about this rose is not as it should be, it's not... right... it's not...
And then I feel it.
The eyes, the presence, and the thorns surrounding me become awake.
That is when I understand. Rose bushes. Thorn bushes. A perfect ring of them. And then they start to whisper. A language I don't know, but in voices of eirie calm and of deceit. A chorus of their siren calls and my ears start to ring painfully.
Crumbling once again to the cold dead ground, I curl up into a ball and cover my ears with my hands as I begin to open my mouth in a silent scream.
But then I hear it. A soft calling of chimes, ringing their sweet harmony on a gentle breeze. Singing to me, warming me, surrounding me, as I lie in this circle of thorns.
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YOU ARE READING
Symphony Of Lies (Inked Hearts 2)
Fanfiction"I would describe it like a room: a dark room that sits alone and still in the cold. There is no color but a black that consumes all else. The room itself is empty, a shell, waiting for her touch. The only thing that makes the room what it is other...
