saski
I could hear the voices screaming, begging to be free. Each time something crunched, silencing their pleas, as of they had never been there, already forgotten. They had no power, their bodies paralyzed, unable to protect themselves.
Looking down again, I shook my head, as if it could remove the abstract thoughts from my head. "C'mon," she said. "Stop playing with the leaves." I smiled, then nodded before responding with a simple word: "Alright."
Something fluttered just above, a white spot growing and expanding as it approached. The wind tossed it, a short gust throwing it to the side, but it quickly regained itself: the small wings slowing as it levitated for a short moment, then slowly landing on the small flowered plant in the center of a small pond.
I could see the colors mixing, turning from a vibrat mix of colors to something duller, more realilistic. It soon painted the canvas, turning the white into a scene of red, small, precise, golden dots dancing. Soon a shape took place from them, the figure familiar.
It was her.
The sky was dark; her eyes bright. They followed the silhouettes that circled us without leaving my eyes - aware of everything around her. "Cheers," she said, raising the glasses filled with a light liquid. "For surviving this life."
There was something there, hiding in the shadows and feasting on the souls that seekes shelter from the wind. It blew them in circles, higher and higher until the colors of reds and purples matched the only black, never allowing them to cross to the next body they wished to inhabit.
I ran. His eyes followed me, watching as my lithe body bent and turned to avoid the blows from the bushes around us. They would grab at me, their thin nails grasping at my clothing and flesh, trying to keep me from escaping the cruel world. Small, precise red dots covered my skin, growing until they merged together and left a warm substance covering my arm, as if it's weight was weighing it down. Run, the voices mocked, run.
Everything rushed in, brushing past me in the chance of an escape. They could be free now, able to twist their ways out of my mind and into the comfort of peope's attention, crawling from the darkest shadows to find the brightest eyes and reveal themselves to them. I felt lighter, easier, and more comfortable, my body lighter; free.
I was free.
There was something following me, waiting until I made a mistakes; letting my guard down. I couldn't see them, the only light casted from the moon that reflected off the broken glass and waves.
There was something pounding, racing as the wind tore through me. It ripped the insides of me apart, it's slick fingers reaching and grabbing for whatever it could; to remove me from this world.
Not sure what it has to do with "temple", but it came to me.
The painting was almost finished; the scornful green eyes watching from the thin piece of paper as people walked by, in awe and horror. It wasn't pretty, but more of a cruel stare that begged to be recognized as something deeper, to be finished - to be recognized as my own.
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