Portals To Another World

death?? scene practice??? i guess

    She was driving along the road at about thirty miles per hour. Her hand at the top of the steering wheel clamped around a cup of coffee. A hair tie between her teeth as she drags her sleeves up, then flipping the mirror down and pulling her hair back from her face. Rain trickled down the stained glass. The wind screen wipers chased each other infront of her. Needless to say the visibility was low. Thunder cracked its knuckles in the sky, she felt it and drove a little faster. One hand on the bottom on the steering wheel, foot heavy on the accelerator. Her key rings were jangling around her knee and she swatted at them to get the noise to quit.

    Her attention slipped from the road. She didn't see the tree lying across the road. Didn't even look up before the front of her car crashed into it.

    When the metal crunched, and the wood splintered, the rain made the noise of grinding a touch tamed. Something happened then, where her legs should have been smashed, and her ribs shattered, skin shredded, and her face should be broken, nothing touched her. The car broke away into pieces that floated up. They glowed, fire fly like, and twisted in the air, until the entire car was nothing but sparkling lights in the sky. She sat there. On the wet road. Blinking. Inhaling. Heart still beating. Pieces that still glistened float past her skin, they feel warm and tingly. She didn't seem to register what had happened, knowing she was lucky to get away with her life.

    Then out of the pelting rain and chaos, walks a being. Its dark skin was rippling in the wind like fabric, four hands reached out to her. But this being was not ugly, it was ethereal. Rivers of gold swirled on its skin, flowing like moving tattoos that shimmered in the light. Still on the ground, she doesn't move away, transfixed by its eyes. To call it one colour would be wrong, blues, greens, grays and reds mixed and mingled in its eyes, as if it could not pick just one eye colour.

    She takes one of its outstreached hands, and walks calmly back into the choas. Even death is beautiful.