7• The Rose & Her Thorns

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•Rue•

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•Rue•

He saw me.

He saw me.

Terror paralyzes my lungs as I dash through the dark woodland. The damp air revolts against my retreat, casting limbs at my slight form that tear at my hair and velvet dress. Howling winds roar as the atmosphere ignites with flashes of crackling lightning. The damp leaves covering the path I take through the woods, whirs violently with the harsh winds, swirling in twisters that spin away and die within the midst of the trees.

Those skeleton like trees, with damp bark turned black, lose their little dying leaves spared before the storm. They flitter violently with an unforgiving wrath that slices at my porcelain flesh. My flesh, like paper in its malnourished state, stings with their biting points that lash out so spitefully.

The taste of my supper, metallic and splendid, lingers on my tongue. I silently moan it's loss and simultaneously swallow down the gagging that wants to ensue at my moment of weakness. For so long I've successfully won against my most sinister desires. This night, full of evil demons that lurk in my wake, brought forth the monster within I constantly fight to suppress. It snarled and bit at the reins, foaming at the mouth, demanding mortal sacrifice for its devilish gifts bestowed upon my family.

So many months have passed since my last moment of weakness that my frail state was no match for its vindictive appetites. Just barely had I been able to purge the filth of my curse from my lips.

But then he saw.

A man of absolute beauty and perfection, unseen in such mortal skin, saw my most heinous parts. He saw my monster breaking free of the ironclad cage I'd locked it away in. So shocking had it been that tears, weakness I try not to allow, poured from my soulless eyes.

How could i? I dare I?

A ghost from the past haunts my thoughts in rapid flickers, choking me with such a heavy guilt.

Red hair, the color of fire, lashing out in the foggy Irish moors of my childhood homeland. She stares off with a content look upon her face, happy to just be. A maze of thorns and roses, and two girlish laughs echoing deep within the passages as they venture further into its eerie depths.

Swallows in a nest through the dusty glass of my bedroom. Emerald eyes full of such love and kindness when my life had been void of such. Pale snowy arms, freckled so beautifully, holding me like a mother should even when my life's horrors had touched her so violently. I can still so clearly hear her eerie lullaby in the lonesome nights spent within those desolate horrific walls, screams faintly reverberating from the basement below. A delicate touch through my inky hair, gentle and reverent. Whispers of love in my youthful ears as I hid from the nightmare under my covers.

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