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Hmm, so I found this old piece of writing I did for school which I was quite proud of at the time seeing as I sucked (and still do tbh) at English. Thought I may as well chuck it in here.
Emerald Blood
“Help…somebody…save me…” Emerald green eyes pierced the darkness, and then nothing. I could hear her, her sharp, ragged breath. The darkness was everywhere, and the silence didn’t help at all. She whispered…”somebody…” she was begging for help. ”save…m— AHHHHHH!” It wouldn’t stop. The sound was coming from nowhere, yet it was everywhere. Then the light blinded me…
It was a new beginning to a new day, and I lay there thinking, wondering who she was. It had seemed too real to call a dream, yet it was too much of a dream to call real. While I thought about this, my phone rang, and instead of questioning who would call me at the crack of dawn, I picked up. The phone sprung to life, and I didn’t get a chance to say anything when it happened. I thought I was still dreaming, because when I listened, she was there. Calling me. Pleading. “Help me…please…save me…” The phone magnified her shallow breath, and then the phone was suddenly free from her voice. “I’m still dreaming, ‘cause there’s no way that she could have called me.” I thought that by saying it out loud, I could make myself believe that the call was still part of my dream, but deep down, I knew it wasn’t.
A few hours later, I was in the car driving to a friend’s house when I started to think about the strange events this morning. Her voice was so soft, and it sounded like a child’s voice, but it was hard to tell in the darkness. Even through all of my confusion though, I knew one thing was almost certain. I recognised her voice. It was like a part of me knew that girl, but as if that part had been locked away. I thought hard, but, just like whenever I tried to think about my parents, my head started to hurt. And not just a normal ‘I’ll-have-some-painkillers-and-it-will-go-away’ headache, it was really killing me. I pulled over to the side of the road, and started to walk towards the forest by the road. The fresh air soon cleared my head, but by now I had wandered off too far from the original track to know where I was. Before I could try and work out where I was though, my feet started walking forwards by themselves. My head told me to stop, but my heart told me to go on. I listened to my heart, and what I found was most surprising…
There it was. In the center of the clearing, the elegant Victorian-style mansion glistened in the sunlight. The mansion looked perfect, like it had just been built. As I walked towards it, I got a strange feeling, so I stopped and looked around, but there was no one there. I continued on towards the door, and once I reached it, it opened by itself! It was like something out of a ghost story. The inside of the mansion was amazing; it looked so clean and pure. It was then when I realised that I was instinctively going up the gorgeous winding staircase, as if I already knew my way around this foreign place. I walked into a small room at the end of the hall, and there she was. The only way I knew it was her was from the way her piercing green eyes looked at me and that soft voice that had just stopped begging for a saviour. She looked so fragile, with skin as pale as a porcelain doll’s. It seemed like she was no older than eight, yet her eyes showed a lifetime of sadness, loneliness and pain. The little girl had been chained to the leg of the lone bed, and I saw a huge padlock keeping it that way. She parted her lips and her soft voice filled the air. “Thank you…” She seemed to call me something, but seeing as I had just spotted the key, I didn’t notice while I went to get it. I hurried back to free her, but as soon as I turned the key and pulled the chains away, I saw darkness…
“AHHHHHHHH!” It was her scream, and I could see her again, but this time two figures were looming over her, their shadows smothering her. “You’re pathetic! Scum like you don’t deserve to live!” As soon as the more feminine figure spat out those words, she whipped the little girl. Her flesh had been pulled off in many other places, and now this patch of skin looked no different, which made her look more and more like a bloody mess. The other figure was more masculine, and he pointed to another small child who was both identical and asleep, wrapped in blankets. While pointing at her, he said, “She is our only daughter! You aren’t needed in this world, not even by your twin. No one will even miss you, because they’ll have a better version of you to admire. Your sister will make everyone forget that she ever had a younger twin sister!” With this said, he took the whip from his wife and hit the vulnerable little girl again. Her cry was everywhere, and she looked right at me. I tried to block out her cry, tried to wipe away the image from my mind, but when I closed my eyes it was all I could see. That room. The one that her blood had been spilt in. The one that was drowning in her blood. And then her scream stopped. I slowly opened my eyes and took in my altered surroundings. The once--perfect carpet was now stained with blood, and the mansion looked like no one had lived in it for years. By the rotting bed was a small body with chains lying around it, the lock close by. I heard whispered words from somewhere, her soft voice thanking me, and that was when I realised that the soft beating in my heart would always be there, because it was hers. My little sister’s…
The Nephilim Rosier · Sat Mar 23, 2013 @ 01:24pm · 0 Comments |
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