Status: Back On :)
Red
Prologue
Red dots clouded my vision. The floor felt cold and unforgiving against my broken skin. I could see my chest expand, searching for air. But that was leading to no prevail. Claustrophobia crept over me. I started to hyperventilate. My heart throbbed uncomfortably in my chest. Every beat smacked against my broken ribs, as did every breath. Spasms of pain blinded me. I lifted my arms, searching. I didn’t want help anymore. I just wanted the sweet bliss of death. I’d do anything to be rid of this pain, emotional and physical.
What was that? A light? Yes, a light, invading the black darkness of my confinement. Was this heaven coming to save me? Should it be getting this bright? No, no, it’s too bright. I turned my head, trying to win back the gloom.
A tall object stood solid in front of the cursed light. It spoke. It sounded like a familiar language. I know it. I think I know it. It spoke again. It’s speaking to me, I can tell. It’s repeating a name. That sounds familiar too.
“Gemma…”
“Gemma…”
“You’re safe now Gemma…”
I opened one eye. Then two. I heard the breath come raggedly from my throat, wheezing horridly. The strange creature looked down at me. He looked like a reaper. I felt small in his gaze. The feeling felt so recognizable, it startled me. The light shone around his silhouette, making his body look dark. But I knew this person, I know I do. I feel it.
My hands slowly dropped. As they hit the floor, my right hand touched something sharp and cold. I turned my head slowly, and stared at the crude blade. It was long and curved gently at the middle. It looked rusty. I then looked at my hands. They were slashed and crusted with dried blood. Then I looked back at the blade, realizing it was not covered in rust, but blood. My blood. I slowly turned back to the stranger. He was bent down now, closer to my face. He looked middle-aged. Gray hairs were flecked around in a mass of blonde hair upon his head. He even had those laugh lines creasing his ocean-blue eyes. The man’s thin lips were curved down into a frown, for some odd reason. In his hand was a black cell phone. One I recognized as mine.
Reality hit my like a stone and I sucked in a surprised gasp. The man had taken it as an acknowledgment, and shook his head.
“Gem, I don’t know what to do anymore.” He whispered.
The blade, the blood. I had tried to attempt suicide, and failed. A single tear leaked from my eye. So close to freedom and I had been caught.
What was that? A light? Yes, a light, invading the black darkness of my confinement. Was this heaven coming to save me? Should it be getting this bright? No, no, it’s too bright. I turned my head, trying to win back the gloom.
A tall object stood solid in front of the cursed light. It spoke. It sounded like a familiar language. I know it. I think I know it. It spoke again. It’s speaking to me, I can tell. It’s repeating a name. That sounds familiar too.
“Gemma…”
“Gemma…”
“You’re safe now Gemma…”
I opened one eye. Then two. I heard the breath come raggedly from my throat, wheezing horridly. The strange creature looked down at me. He looked like a reaper. I felt small in his gaze. The feeling felt so recognizable, it startled me. The light shone around his silhouette, making his body look dark. But I knew this person, I know I do. I feel it.
My hands slowly dropped. As they hit the floor, my right hand touched something sharp and cold. I turned my head slowly, and stared at the crude blade. It was long and curved gently at the middle. It looked rusty. I then looked at my hands. They were slashed and crusted with dried blood. Then I looked back at the blade, realizing it was not covered in rust, but blood. My blood. I slowly turned back to the stranger. He was bent down now, closer to my face. He looked middle-aged. Gray hairs were flecked around in a mass of blonde hair upon his head. He even had those laugh lines creasing his ocean-blue eyes. The man’s thin lips were curved down into a frown, for some odd reason. In his hand was a black cell phone. One I recognized as mine.
Reality hit my like a stone and I sucked in a surprised gasp. The man had taken it as an acknowledgment, and shook his head.
“Gem, I don’t know what to do anymore.” He whispered.
The blade, the blood. I had tried to attempt suicide, and failed. A single tear leaked from my eye. So close to freedom and I had been caught.
♠ ♠ ♠
Constructive Criticism?