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Okay so this is a short story I wrote, though by short story I mean it is about... 18 pages maybe? I don't know. Anyway, let me know what you think. if you want to LISTEN to this story, please go to my youtube playlist. The link is in my signature. This is UNEDITED and IN REVISION, so if there are errors it just means I haven't gotten to them yet. This is the result of my first revision. I've gotten very good reviews on this, so let me know what you think. Please visit my youtube site if you like this story and hit the like button on the videos, and let your friends know about this. Please do not redistribute this story, it is copywritten and my personal property.
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Rosaria was a child as frail as a whisper. She wasn’t meant for the world; she was too beautiful. Too pristine, her mother always told her. But she didn’t feel quite the same. Her skin didn’t quite fit right. Her hair looked like baby doll hair. Her spindly little arms dangled awkwardly, and at times her head bobbled for no reason.
She lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. If asked why she had no windows, she’d surely reply that she didn’t know what a window was for the whole house had none. If asked what her favorite television show was, she’d reply the same. Television and radio were phantoms to the child. She waited with patience no seven year old should possess until she heard the thick bolt from the front door click, then the door open.
“Rosaria?” A woman called. “Come out now, precious.”
Gleefully the girl hurried from her bed into the living room, gawky little body carrying her along to the woman loaded down with bags. She hugged her leg, burying her face in her pants leg. “Mama!”
“It’s all right now, I’m home.” She set down the bags, kneeling and hugging her; peppering her cheeks and forehead with kisses. “My good little girl.”
“I’m so glad you’re okay. I thought… I thought they got you, you were gone for so long.” The child rubbed her eyes, looking down at the bags. “You found food, mama?”
“That’s right.” She picked up all the bags, carrying them into the kitchen. Artificial light flooded the small house to compensate for the total shut-out of the sun. The woman looked to Rosaria and smiled, kneeling down and pulling something from one of the bags. “And I found this for you.”
“Ohh…” She took the small box with great care, studying it before opening it. Inside was a gold and silver pen, sparkling under the bright lights. “It’s so pretty…”
“Only the prettiest things for the prettiest girl,” her mother replied, kneeling and hugging her again. “My pretty girl…”
A loud honk outside elicited a short scream from the child, her face burying in her mothers shoulder. The woman rubbed her back, rocking her. “It’s outside, mama!”
“Shh… shh now, it’s okay. The monster can’t get you in here, I promise. Go on and wash up now. I’ll make our dinner.”
*** *** ***
“Mama, what’s outside like?”
Her mother stopped mid-brush. “Why would you ask that?”
“You go out so much. And when you do, you always find food. What’s it like? When can I go with you?”
“There’s nothing outside, honey. Everything’s gone.” She began brushing her hair again, smoothing it out with her hand. “Such pretty hair…”
“But mama-”
“Enough, Rosaria. The outside world isn’t for you. It’s ugly and dirty and evil. You’re safe inside. Bad things can’t come inside.”
“What are the monsters like? Do they try to hurt you when you go out?”
“Yes, they do. They chase me, and attack me. But I know I’m coming home to you, so that gives me the courage to keep going.” She kissed the back of her head, twining strands of the little girls blonde hair around her fingers. “If you were to go outside, the monsters would get you. Especially if I wasn’t around to protect you. So never go outside, Rosaria. Never.”
Trembling, she turned and hugged close to the woman. “But what if the monsters get inside?”
“Monsters can’t come in here, honey. This place is protected.” She patted her head. “Now, it’s time to go to bed.” She stood up and pulled back the covers, laying down and pulling her close. “You just stay close, and mommy will protect you.”
*** *** ***
Howls and blaring screeches woke Rosaria from a deep sleep, her eyes wide. “Mama! Mama, the monsters!”
“Come on!” The woman scooped her up and rushed into the bathroom with her, sitting down in the tub and holding her close. So much noise, echoing through the walls. She covered the little girls ears, rocking with her.
A new sound. Pounding against the house. Loud taps that crashed down on the roof like the tapping fingers of a million monsters.
“They’re gonna get in!” Rosaria sobbed.
“No they won’t honey. No, I promise. Shh, just go to sleep. Just go to sleep…” She rocked her a little more quickly, keeping her pulled close.
A gentle splat grabbed the woman’s attention. Then another. She looked up, spotting a small crack leaking tiny drops of water in. Rosaria looked at the crack, biting into her lip. They had made a crack, so she was sure they could get inside now. “Mama, what is that? Is that them?”
“They only made a small crack, honey. It’s all right, they can’t get in through that.”
“What’s that dripping in?”
“Drool, honey. Don’t touch it, it’ll make you sick.” She got up, moving a pan from under the sink to catch the droplets. “They know we’re inside, that’s why they’re still tapping.”
“Make them go away mama… please, make them leave us alone.” The gangly child curled into a ball, choking on her sobs.
“It’ll be over soon, Rosaria. We’ll just stay here where we’ll be safe.” She slipped back into the tub with her, pulling her into her lap and rocking with her. She started to sing, never faltering until finally the monsters fled. The tiny little claw taps ceased, taking with it all the howling and fearful noises. By then, Rosaria had fallen deep asleep.
*** *** ***
The time during her mothers absence was always fraught with fear. Each little sound, every little rattle of the house, convinced her that she would never see her mother again. So it was understandable that, whenever her mother came back, her relief sent her running as soon as she heard the door close. She knew better than to rush out before that time. “If the monsters see you, they’ll rush into the house. So never come into the living room before I close the door,” her mother sternly warned.
Faithfully, she always followed those words. When her mother left, she would wait in her room for her return. It never would have occurred to her that her mother may one day forget to lock the door. That is, until one afternoon she heard the door open quietly. No click of the lock beforehand. But this didn’t register to the child as a threat, even when the door was closed much more quietly than normal.
She rushed out into the living room, stopping in her tracks as her lungs emptied with a forceful whine. A stranger stood in their living room, spinning around when he heard her open the door.
Neither moved at first. He looked human, but he couldn’t be. All the humans were gone. Or maybe he was a survivor, looking for shelter. Or, she thought, a monster in disguise. A monster who’d come in to devour her, just like her mother warned. After a few suffocating seconds she drew in a deep breath and screamed, turning and running back for her room. He ran after her. Though her body was unnaturally awkward she rushed into the room before him and slammed the door, locking it and pressing her back to it as tightly as possible.
He pounded, yelling for her to come out. She wouldn’t be fooled. He was just there to eat her, and she wasn’t going to give him the chance! She covered her ears and waited for the pounding to subside, trembling hard enough to rattle the door. Finally, just as she felt as if she would pass out, the banging stopped. She uncovered her ears, hearing fading footsteps and the opening of the front door. Just the opening. He didn’t close it. He intended to leave it open for his monster friends. To let them in after her.
She curled on her side in front of the door and sobbed, desperately wishing her mother were there. She wouldn’t have let monsters in. She knew how to make the door lock so that no one could get in. How could she have forgotten? Her mind wrestled with questions until she heard the loud slam and firm click of the lock, her mother yelling for her.
Rosaria got up, but stopped as her hand was inches from the doorknob. If the monsters could look human, how could see know if the woman calling for her was really her mother?
*** *** ***
There were many things Rosaria didn’t understand. What were the monsters, and how did her mother escape them without harm every time she left? Again, she was left alone to stare up at the ceiling, her eyes the same color as the teal paint peeling above her.
Every so often, her mother would tell her that her birthday was coming up. It seemed like a strange thing to her, but it made her mother happy to celebrate it. This year, she had told her, she was going out to get her a birthday cake. She’d had cake - spongy yellow stuff that made her teeth hurt just a little bit - but she’d never had anything called birthday cake. Was it different from regular cake? Was it less sweet? She hoped so.
Was it wise to leave for something as small as cake? What if the monsters got her? What would she do if her mother never came back? She couldn’t go out on her own, into a den of monsters, to hunt for sacks of food like her mother. She wasn’t strong or clever like her. The monsters would get her for sure.
As if to bring her worst fears some validity, tiny taps began on the top of the house again. She belted out a scream, rushing from her room to the bathroom only to remember the crack. So small, but so capable of becoming larger. She eyed it, her breathing picking up till she became lightheaded. The tapping grew louder and more rapid and another scream ripped itself from her. The monsters were there again, and her mother was outside with them!
She raced from the bathroom and went back into the bedroom, pushing her way under the bed and covering her ears. She tried to sing like her mother, but her voice failed her too often. It would die out as her throat clenched, or come as nothing but a frantic whine.
“Go away! Go away!” She screamed, coughing intermittently. “Leave me alone, monsters! I-I’m not scared of you!” She was answered by the loud, booming roar of one of the great monsters, and her brave words dissolved.
The bolt clicked and the door opened, but she was too afraid to move. Her clothing was wet. Her throat was hoarse. The feel of a claw on her ankle drew a rough scream up that tore her throat. She kicked and fought, struggling against the monster that had broken in despite her mothers certainty of their safety. “Let go! Mama! Mama, help me!”
She was dragged from under the bed, shrieking and digging her nails into the floor in a desperate attempt to crawl back under. She’d known this would happen one day. Knew she wasn’t strong enough to resist the evil that lurked outside their walls.
Another claw muffled her screaming, and finally she was able to hear the voice that had been calling her the whole time. “Rosaria! Rosaria, stop!”
She turned her head and looked up. There were no claws on her, only the hands of her mother. Her mother, who was covered in the saliva of the creatures outside. They still tapped on the house, but more softly now. Her breathing slowed, as did her rapid heartbeat, and gradually she calmed. Now, only the sobbing remained.
“M-mama, I thought a monster got in…” she hiccupped. “The… the monsters got you…”
“I’m okay, honey. They just got me a little wet that’s all.” She helped her up, sighing. “Sweetie, you wet yourself.”
“I was s-so scared,” she coughed, shifting from foot to foot. The wet pants stuck to her. “Please don’t ever go out again after birthday cakes mama! They knew you were going out and, and-!”
“Hush, now. And stop fidgeting. Take off the pants and go into the bathroom.” Her mother stood. “We both need to shower now.”
Rosaria did as she was told, stripping out of her clothing and sitting on the edge of the tub. The metal pan on the floor was half full, the surface rippling each time a new drop fell in. Poking her head out to see her mother putting away the many things she’d brought home, she knelt down and stared at the rippling collection of liquid.
Clamping her teeth down softly on her bottom lip, she reached a shaking hand out. Another drop hit, and she yanked her hand back again. It would make her sick if she touched it. But then… what about her mother? She was covered in it. Again she reached out, but this time was stopped by her mothers hand locking down on her wrist.
“What are you doing?!”
“I-I… I just…” She looked up, shocked by her mother’s expression. “I wanted-”
“Don’t you understand this will make you sick? Don’t you ever, ever touch that!” She slapped the back of her hand firmly, and Rosaria belted out a loud cry. The struck area turned a light shade of red, stinging in a way she’d never experienced before. Then, as if realizing what she’d done, her mother kissed the spot repeatedly. “I’m sorry, honey. No, shh shh, don’t cry… mommy was just scared, that’s all. Come on now, in the shower. We need to clean up, so we can celebrate your birthday.”
The child didn’t want to celebrate anything, but a new feeling towards her mother grew. Fear. The same fear she felt toward the monsters that roamed outside, keeping them as captives. A fear that compelled her to obey, lest she be struck again. Or worse. But finally, she felt she understood why her mother didn’t want her to touch the drool still leaking drop by foul drop into their home. Because now that her mother did, she could see the effects. Her mother was becoming one of them.
*** *** ***
Rosaria couldn’t bring herself to forget the pain on the back of her hand. Couldn’t forget the look on her mothers face. It made her stomach toss. A new monster - one that could come into the house - was right there beside her. Sleeping in the same bed, eating the same food. Maybe it wasn’t her mother at all. Maybe it was a monster who had taken her form as a disguise. This thought made her even more afraid. Maybe it had happened long ago. Maybe her mother was never really her mother after all.
Her fingers clenched in her shirt, the child fighting to repress tremors. If she made it known that she knew, would the monster eat her? Or would she be hit more? What happened to her real mother? Did they take her at eat her, like they’d eaten everyone else in the world? When they’d taken over the world, they ate everyone except the people who got into their houses. But over time those people got eaten, too. That’s the stories her mother told her. But wait… if there never was a mother, only a monster, did that mean the stories were fake too? Maybe there were other survivors. Maybe she could get help, if she could just go outside!
But there was nothing outside. Nothing but black that only her mother could find her way through. The monsters needed it black, because the light made them sick. If that was the case, maybe her mother wasn’t a monster after all. Not completely. After all, she had been in the light of the dining room with her.
The next morning came and she’d slept very little. Her mind was running hot with fearful thoughts. When her mother got up the child expected her to reach for the light, but the woman only gripped her forehead and stumbled toward the door.
“Mama… what about the light…?”
“Not this morning, honey. Mommy has a headache,” she replied.
*** *** ***
Things began to change. Her mother woke up with headaches a lot, insisting the lights be kept off till they went away. They rarely did. When the lights were on, they were shaded to be kept low. During those times, she usually saw her mother in the kitchen drinking from dark brown bottles that she’d begun bringing home.
Her mother said they were just regular drinks, but when Rosaria asked for one she was scolded. “These are only for adults, Rosaria,” the woman said. “These will help me keep you safe from the monsters.”
It made no sense. If the drinks would help the woman keep her safe, then it only seemed right that she give her some. They could keep each other safe. But when she insisted this, her mother became frightening again. Scolding her and sending her to play in her room.
The monsters came more frequently, hitting against the house and causing unseen trouble outside. The crack in the ceiling got no bigger, but the child had more to worry about than something like that. Her mother, the person she’d trusted all her young life, was becoming one of those creatures that lurked outside. Soon, she would have no escape from the monsters because the only one who could protect her would be one of them.
With her knees pulled to her chest, she stared at the wall. She needed to escape. She had to find out if there were others who could help her, and keep her safe. The slow change in her mother was even more frightening than the creatures she couldn’t see clawing at the roof outside their home. If she could just find some help maybe they could help make her mother better, too.
She lay back, closing her eyes and doing her best to take a nap. Her mother rarely wanted to do anything anymore. They didn’t play games, or do each others hair. She just seemed interested in the brown glass bottles that were rapidly accumulating around the house. The monster was making her drink those bottles, she was sure of it. Maybe if she dumped it all out, the monster would go away. Or maybe it would attack her and eat her instead.
Again she pulled herself into a ball, settling into disturbing dreams. Dreams of a beast resting near a gray surface. A strip that had yellow lines down the middle. The large, metal monster lay dead on it’s side.
She was above everything, watching down over the strange scene. Her mother was screaming and crying over the body of a little blonde girl. and inside the dead beast rested a dozen or more of the same brown bottles.
Rosaria’s eyes jerked open and she leaped out of bed, peering through the utter darkness for any sign of the strange beasts. No, they weren’t here. Trapped only within the realm of sleep, where she hoped they’d stay. She tried to see if her mother was in bed, but with such thick darkness there was no hope of seeing even a moving creature, let alone a still one.
She reached into the bedside stand, searching for the slender flashlight kept there. Her hands passed objects big and small, pushing aside each one before they came upon the smooth metal object she sought. Taking in a deep breath she twisted the top and turned the light on her mothers sleeping face, which instantly twisted up. As if in agony. She took the light away and suppressed a sob with her hand. Now she knew for certain.
*** *** ***
Rosaria began to plan. More and more often her mother left the house to get brown bottles filled with monster food. During those times, she tried to learn how the lock worked, little at a time. At first she was too scared to touch the door itself. After a few days of this, she was finally able to lay a hand on it without losing control of her bladder. The next step was more difficult.
The lock was much higher than she could reach. She stared up at it with a longing frown, watching it for minutes on end as if it would give up its secrets to her. She’d never be able to reach it without being lifted up somehow. Her hands wrung in her shirt and finally she broke her gaze away from the lock to look around.
The dining room. There were chairs there. She raced into the room and grabbed a chair, pulling on it and dragging the heavy seat across the floor. It made loud scuffing sounds till she got it onto the rug, where it finally fell silent. A new set of problems arose, however. The chair was much more difficult to pull across the rug. She pulled as hard as she could, glancing back to see the chair so close to the door.
She took a step back and prepared to pull again, but a rattling at the door made her blood freeze. She ran around to the other side of the chair and pulled, fear giving her new strength. A clattering sounded outside the door, and for a moment the lock stopped wiggling. Again she began pulling, shoving the chair back up to the table and dashing across the house back to her room.
A loud grunt came from the other side of the door, and finally it was opened. When it closed Rosaria stepped out of her room, seeing her mother stumbling with more cases of bottles in her hands. “H-hello mama.”
Her mother turned, looking at her and smiling strangely. “There’s my good girl…” She set down the bottles, stumbling over to her and collapsing to her knees in front of her. “Were you… a good girl?” Her words were slurred, and her breath smelled foul. So close to becoming a monster now, she couldn’t even speak like a human. Having her so close made the child’s stomach tighten, but she kept herself from recoiling. If the monster knew, it would eat her up for sure.
“Yes I was, mama.” She looked around, eyes fixing on the bottles. “Why do… you get so many of those?”
Her mothers face pinched and she got up. “What business is that of yours? Huh? I get it because I like it. Good girls don’t ask questions like that, Rosaria.”
She pulled her arms close to her chest, shifting from one foot to the other. “Sorry, mama.”
Her disposition changed again. A smile spread over the woman’s face and she walked back to her and picked her up. “I’m sorry sweetie. Mommy isn’t feeling so good, okay? This is like… medicine. It makes mommy better. So don’t touch it, okay?” She kissed her forehead, leaving behind the same digusting smell on her skin. “Don’t you worry, sweetie pie. It’s almost over.”
*** *** ***
Again, Rosaria stood at the door while her mother was gone. This time, she knew she had to make the door unlock. If she stayed, she wouldn’t live much longer. Her mother’s progression into becoming a monster was almost finished. She never wanted the lights on when she was in the room, and she drank dozens of brown bottles full of the disgusting juice a day. The monster attacks were becoming less frequent - most likely because they no longer needed to attack the house - and the strange dreams wouldn’t stop. Dreams of large metal monsters with people inside them. Dreams of pain and fear that wouldn’t stop tormenting her even after she woke.
In just a few days, her mother told her, it was her birthday again. Her ninth. She told her as though it was some great event, but she knew what that really meant. It would be the day the monster that had taken over her mother would kill her.
If she was still there, anyway.
She pulled the chair across the room once again, struggling when it hit the carpet. She pulled, then moved around the other side and pushed, only to have it tip over with a loud crash. Stomping her feet, she cried and went around it once more to try and push it upright. It was more than she could handle, however, and no matter how far she could lift it she couldn’t set it back on its legs again.
She scanned the room, but was interrupted by the jigging of the doorknob. She looked at the clock, her hopes dashed when she realized she’d been struggling with the chair alone for more than an hour. An hour that had flown by far too quickly, all because of a stubborn chair!
She rushed into her room and closed it, pressing her back against it and dragging in ragged breaths that refused to slow. Her eyes scanned around quickly, spotting a gold and silver glitter sitting on the table.
“Damn thing… R…Rosaria, did you… mess with this stupid chair…?” her mother called. “Get out here!”
Hurrying to the table, the child grabbed the pen and held it behind her back, trembling as she went into the living room. The bolt wasn’t turned. Her mother had forgotten to lock it. Forgotten, or maybe left it open on purpose.
“Did you move this chair?”
“Y-yes, mama. I… I wanted to…” she backed up as her mother walked closer.
“Were you trying to mess with the door?! You know what will happen if you go out there!” She stared down at the child, who stared up at her with fear filling her up till she felt she’d explode. “Why were you trying to mess with the door?”
“I wanted to leave!” she cried as she backed up. “Cuz you’re a monster, and I’m not staying with you anymore!”
“What are you talking about? I’m not-” She started, reaching out for her. Rosaria shrieked and slammed her hand down, the pen clutched in it tight. It pierced the womans hand, causing her to jerk back. “Rosaria!”
“I’m not gonna let you eat me! You aren’t my mommy!” She rushed under her legs, kicking the brown bottles away as she tried to reach the door.
“Stop! You can’t go out there!” The woman stumbled toward her, clutching the hand that still had the pen buried in it. Acting as if she hardly even felt it. “They’ll take you away!”
Panicked, the child picked up one of the bottles and threw it. Though frail, her aim was fair enough that she hit her mother with the full bottle. It only hit her arm but she fell backward a few steps.
“Leave me alone! You’re not my mommy anymore! You’re a monster!” she sobbed, leaping and trying to grip the knob. It was just out of her reach. Her small fingers slipped off it’s smooth surface each time.
“Stop it!” Her mother got to her feet and rushed over to her, grabbing her by the wrist. “If you don’t stop it, I’m going to punish you!”
If asked what she thought ‘punishment’ meant, Rosaria would have drawn a blank. She’d never been punished before. But now, hearing the word from the monster grasping her arm firmly, she knew enough about it that she refused to let it happen. She turned her head and bit her wrist, jerking her hand away and running into the kitchen as fast as her thin legs would carry her.
Barely able to walk, let alone run, her mother gave chase. She rushed into the kitchen and looked around, unable to spot the small girl in the dim light. “Rosie? Rosie, honey, please… please stop. Mommy isn’t a monster. She just doesn’t feel well. Come on now, come -!” Her sentence ended in a scream as a knife plunged up to the handle into her leg. Rosaria pulled it back and stabbed again, bringing her down to the floor.
“Die, monster!” She screamed. “Die… die… die!” She began stabbing the woman she once called mother repeatedly in the chest and stomach, ignorant to her screams and pleas for her to stop. She was too frantic - too desperate - to escape. And the only way she could do that is if the monster holding her in was gone.
When she was sure the creature was dead she started to sob, staring down at the butchered body of what had once been her mother. If only she’d never gone out to get that stupid cake. If only she’d never gotten poisoned by the monsters drooling all over her, none of this would have happened! She got up, coughing and walking to the door. Again and again she leaped and grasped for the knob, blood-stained fingers finally wrapping her hands around it and turning.
The door opened, and he braced herself for the flood of monsters. She closed her eyes tight, but there was nothing. No pain of attacking monsters. No roaring. Just something soft that rushed across her skin and disturbed her hair. Instead of darkness, she could see bright light shining through her closed eyelids. And where she’d expect the sounds of monster growls, she heard something different. Laughter. Tiny little giggles from someplace near her.
She opened her eyes, for the first time taking in the sights of the world outside her dark and silent home. The metal monsters from her dreams rushed past, but did nothing to attack her. Instead, they seemed controlled by the people inside them. She looked all around, seeing children playing close by and a sign that read SUNSET BLVD. Slowly, she stepped forward.
The moment her foot touched the ground, she grew numb. She felt dizzy, and though she tried to move her arms to stop herself from falling they hung limp at her sides. When she hit, there was no pain. No pain, because she was no longer inside her body. She floated above it, watching the body that never felt right to her hit the ground with a muffled thud.
Memories she’d lost - memories that had been attempting to break free through her dreams - came rushing back. She remembered floating above the scene of a car crash, swaddled in the arms of a woman dressed in purple and blue. Her mother - Rosaria’s mother - had a bottle to her lips, driving with Rosaria in the back seat.
A truck came through just as the woman ran a red light, slamming into the back passenger side of the van. The van jerked and flipped, rolling over onto the side of the road. Only one person was left alive: Rosaria’s mother. The woman pulled herself from the wreck and pulled her daughter from the car, sobbing and throwing the beer bottle to the side. “Oh my God… oh God, what have I done?!” She looked around frantically, trying to wipe blood off the side of the girls face. “Rosaria! Oh, please don’t be dead! Please-!”
Rosaria - or at least the spirit that had left the child’s body - gave a soft coo in the arms of the woman rocking her slowly. She looked down to see them descending, stopping in front of the distraught woman.
“Your foolishness has taken the life of your only child.”
The mother of the dead child looked up, shaking her head. “No! No, I… It was a mistake! I didn’t think I was… so drunk, I…”
“You, Mariana, callously put your daughter in danger and have paid the price. But… I see how you grieve, and I cannot simply leave you as you are. After all, I have a child with me whom is in need of life outside the spirit realm.”
Mariana wiped her eyes, smearing blood across her face. “But I… I don’t understand. Who are you?”
“I am called Hariti. Though I doubt that is of any importance. Know only that I will put the Abiku I carry within that child there, and bring her to life. But I ask one thing of you.” She knelt, staring at her intently. “She must not see the rot of the world until after her ninth birthday. So impressionable, so frail… she would be crushed by the world. Keep her secret and safe until her ninth birthday has passed, and she will be yours for as long as your lives remain.”
“What… what happens if she sees the outside world?”
“Should she lay eyes on the world outside before then, the Abiku will wake. If she sets foot within the world, it will flee immediately, and she will be as lifeless as she now is.”
The little soul, now free of the body that never quite fit right, felt the memory of the incident evaporate from her mind as she turned in circles above what was once her cage. She looked down at the lifeless child below her, then back into the house to see Mariana’s blood circling her body like a gruesome moat. She looked at the world that held no interest to her whatsoever. The house was already nothing more than a distant memory, fading like the last notes of a sad song.
 Hitomichu · Fri Oct 21, 2011 @ 06:59pm · 0 Comments |
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