amayaxgin
"Grandfather," she pleaded with the old man, but he refused to budge on the thought. "No," he shook his head, not moving from his chair before the fire. She stuck her lip out, pouting in a way that only she could to try to get him to budge, a method that had worked since she was a little girl, although she rarely abused her power. "No," he replied firmly and he set about working on paperwork.
He held her hand, holding tight as she stood with her back to the audience. Audience was relative. The smile that crossed her face, the smile that he couldn't contain said every word that they needed to say. The witnesses before them could attest to this, everyone in that room knew that the two could not be torn apart, too much together, and too strong of a bond.
Glaring eyes turned her way and she slapped her hand quickly over her mouth, trying to seem like she coughed, sneezed, something. To show such disrespect in this place was unheard of. She couldn't help it though, they were acting like the woman was a saint, where she knew otherwise. She also could picture the old woman, sitting next to her, scoffing at every word out of their mouths because she was not some docile saint, she had a wicked temper, a sharp tongue, and her wit was with her through her dying day.
Holding her hand to her mouth, refusing to speak as she read the letter. Tears were slow to come, but when they did it was like they would never stop. It killed her inside, noticing the unwritten differences in his words, she also noticed the unwritten ending, the little three words that should have been there.
Quietly, she slipped through her hallway, feeling ridiculous having to sneak in her own home. Well, that's what you do when you're trying not to die, she thought to herself. The daggers remained clenched in her hands, her knuckles turning white with the effort. There was glass sprayed from her window when she peaked around the corner, watching for the invader.
The light filtered in from the doorway where he stood. The light from the street caused him to be backlit, creating a halo around his form. She breathed in slowly, moving away as she hid in the shadows, clutching at her daggers and waited.
She giggled, knowing how terrible it was to do so. Shaking her head and blushing while he tried to flirt and tease her. She didn't know what to say, she was awful at this. Even after almost two years together he still got to her, made her giggle and blush. Yet, she could never do the same.
She tip toed down the corridor, unsure if this was right. Her breathing was heavy as she glanced around every corner, trying not to make a sound. The door creaked as she eased it open, but there was no other way out, it was too far for her to drop out of her window. She rushed into the cold night air and finally into his arms, hoping that the door closed silently behind her but she really didn't hear.
They raised above her, the bars that held her into her prison. She pulled her knees tighter to her as she sat on the bed that seemed, to her, to be the only place that light reached. The door was open but no light came through, just the light through the window. Her mind traced her the shadows, wishing for freedom. She stood up, running her fingers down the length of the window, wanting to be on the other side, but the bars that weren't, held her in her own prison.
Small, the ant looked up at the blade of grass before it. The water droplet magnifying the bright sunlight, bending the smooth surface before its eyes. Nothing was more beautiful, than the view an ant had, of a water droplet in the sun.
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writing since 2011 · 25 entries · 23 days shown up
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