Curse of the Virgin Canvas
The first rays of sunlight seeped through the open window and a slight breeze ruffled the white curtains, causing them to sway dreamily. I felt the warmth of the morning sun melt over my face, matching the warmth I felt in my heart. I slowly opened my eyes and rolled over to face my love lying next to me, still under the magical spell of slumber. Her bleached blonde hair flowed from the back of her skull – which was facing me – and trailed further under the abyss of the covers. She matched the color of the white bed sheets when coupled with the small, white dress she was adorned in. The sun's rays only illuminated my side of the bed leaving her figure still shrouded in shadows.
Overcome with feelings of tenderness and love, I leaned over to wake her with a kiss. When she failed to stir, I placed another tender kiss upon her cheek. I put my hand on her shoulder and gently shook her, but she still didn't respond.
"Annabel," I whispered, hoping that she would wake. Again, she failed to rouse. Upon further investigation, I noticed that something was off about her. For the third time, I placed my lips upon her cheek; her bare skin was ice cold.
"Annabel?" I repeated her name a little louder, panic rising from my stomach. I grasped the white covers in preparation to pull them down. My sweaty palms made contact with the blanket, revealing that the cotton was surprisingly warm. I quickly pulled my hand away to discover my palm was covered with blood. A cold sweat beaded on my forehead and my stomach twisted into knots.
"Annabel!" I exclaimed again. Hot tears began spilling down my face. I desperately reached out and pulled her close to me.
This is a nightmare…but it feels too real. Annabel can't be dead. What's going on? Someone, please, wake me up and save me from this hellish dream…
"Tell me I'm dreaming, Annabel! Please!" I cried out. I hugged her tighter in my arms as sobs shook my body. Fresh blood trickled from her body onto my arms, the rank stench traveling up my nostrils and choking me. My Annabel couldn't possibly be gone. I refused to accept it. How would I ever be able to sleep again with this memory trapped in my mind? I kissed Annabel again between sobs and whimpered as I held her lifeless body even tighter.
The one I love was once so full of life, but now she just laid there limp and cold in my arms. Her pallid skin still glowed in the sunlight that was slowly overcoming the entire bedroom. I planted a gentle kiss on her lips as hot tears poured down my face. The touch parted her lips and blood began to trickle from the corners of her mouth. I gasped and closed my eyes, desperately attempting to trash the image. My body trembled as I prayed for this nightmare to end. My heart was hurting, my stomach was in knots, and my nostrils were clogged with the rank stench of my lover's blood.
My body grew stiff and the desire for revenge overcame me. The only problem was that I was the one with her blood on my hands. I must have done this to her. My stomach churned and I felt bile rise in my throat. I glanced down at my arms. The viscous, red liquid trickling down my skin traced the paths of my own veins.
I'm a monster. I'm sorry, Annabel, for what I've done to you. I'm so sorry…