This is just a short story. This is all there is to it; there is no chapters or anything.
I mainly wrote it just in case I ever have to write something like this in my lit class lmfao.
Lazzyyy, but prepared.
READON.
::KAY::
___________________________________________________________________________________
::RED::
I walked through the graveyard, the wind blowing through my hair, buffeting my face. My dress stuck to my ankles as I walked, my bare feet crunching in the leaves. My lips seemed to move along to the song; the song I have never heard, but seemed so familiar. He was singing, I had no idea whom, but he- who ever he really was- he was singing. From the heart, it was beauty. I swayed along, taking up the loose folds of my skirts and twirling in the moonlight, dodging headstones as I span around here and there. It was almost as if he knew what to sing, his song called out to me, it took me to him as if he was pulling my by a heartstring. I sashayed up to a headstone in the form of an angel with out stretched hands, his face feminine but still so wordlessly handsome. Was he the one singing such a song of beauty? It almost seemed as if the music was coming from him, from he, the one with the unfeeling lips. I cupped my hands in his and moved as if we were waltzing, as if he were real, and I were his bride. I gazed upon his face, remembering that it had rained yesterday, the tears still not dried from his stony face. I reached up to wipe them away, the rain and dirt making his tear drops a rusted red color, almost like blood. Gently, I brushed the color away, making his face immaculate and marble again. I looked back down at my palms, seeing the red streak along the tips of my fingers. I wiped it away on my skirt, and checked my hands for cleanlieness. It was on my hand still. I blinked as it spread, contaminated my entire hand until I looked as if I had been working with berries. I tried to wipe it away, using my other hand. None of it left my other hand, but it seemed to spread again, to my other hand. Why, what was this? If it was just mold and water, which was what I thought it was at first- why is it spreading? What was going on?
"Caught!" They screamed, pointing- torches, fire, fire was everywhere! I screamed, turning from my stony partner to the mob. "Caught!" They chanted, their voices shrill and high. "Caught, caught, caught red handed!" They declared, their torches and pitchforks high in the air.
"Witch!" He said.
"Demon!" She screeched.
"Unholy!" They all called me, dancing around with their flames in hand, their friends by their side.
I was alone, I couldn't run. The rocky angel held me in his grip, his hard arms wrapped around me, his face contorted in agony. Agony in the Garden- the Lord, Jesus, and all his saints- the agony. Even the son of God felt pain and sadness, did he feel it like I did?
"Kill her! Burn her! Send her back!" They all called, drawing closer. No! I screamed, no! I didn't do it! The red continued to move along my hands, now reaching up to my elbows. The red; what did it mean? What was it for? What, for all I am worth- what is it?
"Die, die, die!" They screamed, their torches dancing, the headstones' shadows dancing along with them in a never ending tango of destiny. Why, why should I die? The farmers wife had distastefully slept with the Father of the Church, and yet I am the one being sought after for death?
"Give her what she deserves; her just desserts!" One woman called, raising her torch high over her head. What I deserve? What did I really deserve? He was the one who deserved it; not I! I did not deserve any of this. I deserve to be home, away from these lying and scheming hellions!
I twisted and turned in the fallen angels grip, trying to get myself free, trying to escape, with no avail. What, what is it that I can do, what can I do now? I cannot escape; all that is left with me is faith, but how can you have faith in something that is watching you fade into nothingness? I closed my eyes, knowing even if that is true, I still can try. I prayed, they always said when you're close to death, there is nothing better to do than pray. Will the all powerful Lord save me, or will he send me away like he has for so many others? Will I be brushed off like anyone else who has been condemned to hells ever-burning flames? Or would he greet me with open arms, showing me the heaven they all preach about?
I couldn't, no, no I couldn't die! The angels grip was tight, I tried and tried, but still he held. I couldn't die, I must escape! I fought and fought, tooth and nail; the rough skin of my angel rubbed my dress into shreds, the beautiful silk gone before I had worn it more than a night. It floated off with the breeze, towards the sea, never to be worn again. Is that how I am going to be? Lost and forgotten after being roughly rid of? How, even in the Almighty's eyes is that fair?
They were so close, the head from their fires started to singe me; the acidic smell of burning hair in the air as my long red locks curled and turned to ash, to be nothing more. I screamed, the angel held me tighter, they people chanted louder. These people, some were my friends, even some were family; yet they turned on me, their torches raised high, my naked body soon burning with the fires of their hate. Is this what humankind calls fairness? Karma? Fate, destiny, the great demise? Truly, humans are not different from beast at all, they are the true monsters of the world. I lay in the arms of a stranger, the red covering my body.
This is what I have been taken down to, murdered by all whom knew me, who saw me grow into adolescence and beyond; those who watched as I became a wife and bore children, and yet, even God seemed to turn on me, subjecting me to such torture as this. But sadly, they all would never feel guilt about this, about letting my body reverse to ash, go back to what I was. They would turn their backs on this, just as they turned their backs to me, and say it never happened. There is no such thing as civilization; it is all a veil to keep you from seeing the ID that hid beneath, to hide away the blood thirst and murderous wants and needs. And now, I die, the faces of my friends and family twisted with the flames, the life drained out of them, only to be replaced with hate and rage. And this, this is how we die, how we all die.
