Rapunzel

She wondered if that was what made her beautiful… the fact that she was destined to die. She wondered if they envied her, way up in her tower, with lost, green eyes peering down at a doomed world. After all, it would be so, so easy to open the window and float to the ground, to become one of them. But the thought of being surrounded terrified her. No… she thought… she would stare into the hollowed eyes of death alone.

Princess. The voice was low with the texture of honey oaks, and with startled, glowing eyes she turned away from her window. The face of her darkness stared back at her, glowing with deep, hollow eyes of black and swallowed by a foggy shadow.

She shouldn’t have opened her mouth. She shouldn’t have spoken. The darkness had crept up through her throat, kissing her tongue, brushing through her lips and falling into the air surrounding her.

The frigid dribble of a tear fell down her hollowed cheek. Someone would die, she realised as she stretched out her hand, ivory fingers carved with bone curling over as she silently trembled. Someone would die because of her. The darkness grabbed her hand, like the whisper of the wind as it blew past.

The Princess stepped forward and fell to the ground. How beautiful it was… she thought… to have death inside of you. How beautiful she was. Fingers pushed against knotted ebony hair, tugging until they brushed against a wet cheek. From her place on the floor, in the middle of the room, she could see through the window. She could see the sky. It was light.

Death no longer held her hand. In the darkness she would shut her eyes. In the darkness she would sleep.