Entropy

A story about love, despair, and chaos, told in fragments.

Her screams echoed inside the glass coffin.
I heard them.
She scratched her fingernails bloody on the hard case that kept her inside.
I felt the blood trickle down my own hands.
She pounded with all the strength and power left in her fragile body.
Bruises sprang up on my own knuckles.
I wanted to hold her hand, warm like it used to be. It is cold and hard now. Skin frozen and curled like leather.
She wanted out.
I wanted in.

The day everything went perfect was the day she died.
Her name was Theodora, and I loved her. But to love her is death.