Concrete walls surrounded her.
No roof to protect her from the raindrops that fell on her face, mingling with tears and drenching her sweater. The frigid air piercing her to the bones as her hands covered her ears, hoping not to hear the relentless voices that echoed louder each passing moment.
No door to escape.
No hope.
Each raindrop feeling like an icy dagger against her skin. Her breaths laboured as if inhaling shards of ice. The taste of salt from her tears lingered on her quivering lips.
Despite the darkness that enveloped her in a painful hug, there were moments she'd find strength in her despair.
She was stronger.
Reclaiming control.
Sometimes, she would almost break the walls. Feeling them tremble under her fists in a determination to break free of what seemed an endless punishment.
Sometimes, she could make the rain stop.
But there were times she could barely open her eyes. Where the weight of her anguish was heavier than her strength, feeling submerged in a suffocating deluge, drowning in her own desperation. Trapped within the confines of her own mind, with no hand extended to pull her to safety.
No one was there to save her.
No one would come.
No one ever comes.
YOU ARE READING
A Dance in the Dark (Book 1)
FantasyOne day, I read that in real-life fairy tales, the princess sometimes needs to befriend the dragon and kill the prince, perhaps not to the most extreme extent, considering the prince's utility. (*Wink*). Twenty years had passed since the demise of t...
