Crisp warm autumn air filled the room through the open window. The boy sitting on the floor, nose twitched every so slighty. It would have been unnoticeable by most, yet even he could not feel it himself. Oxygen filled his tattered lungs, how could something so plentiful be so precious to life?
"Come on, brother. Please let me in." A girl's voice pleaded through the locked oak door. The brass knob rattled, with strength of the person on the otherside trying to get into the room. The sturdy door would not budge, it gave away nothing holding the boy's sercets for his eyes only.
The boy opened his mouth to speak, yet nothing came out. His own voice silenced by his mind. Numbly he stood up to move across the room. Down his arms dripped slikly crimson blood, the slow drops holding a story in each one. The story untold, wasted away into the creme carpet.
"Please let me in... I can help... Brother, please..." His sister pleaded once more, her voice broke at the end. Followed by a hopelessly broken sob. Once more the boy opened his mouth to answer, but one more, he could not. His mouth felt as if someone shoved cotton in it to stop the bleeding of his voice to leak out.
A single click of a lock echoed throughout the cold room. Light seeps into the room form the open closet. Out came a ladder, followed by something useful yet, deadly.
Her bristles stuck out, threatening daring anyone to hold her tightly around her base. Her sides jagged and rough, yet a hand gripped her so tightly. Spikes dug into white snow, that became littered with crimson.
She became twisted around the snow, then she was realsed form the hold. Hung up for all to see, she hung limply yet proudly in the room. Feeling skin against her bristles, she tightened, holding onto the intruder.
Strangled noises left blue lips, that were once a rosy pink. Pale eyelids fluttered helplessly as limbs became limp, then dangled in air. A loud crack and bang, sounded. The great oak door that held the boy's sercets had came down.
Upon inspection, a broken sounded left the small girl. Her frame shook endlessly as she stood watching the rope holding snow and crimson.
"My brother... He's gone, he's left."
YOU ARE READING
Snippets, Trinkets, Poems and All Beyond Imagination
Poetry-Trigger Warning- This book is mainly me writing whatever comes to mind, so sometimes it's little scenes of stories that will never be written. It contains poems too, it's just whatever. It will have some fan fiction in it too. ;) I'll mark that wit...
