Drabble written for a short-story contest at school.
Susceptible to be erased at any time -don't know what it's wrong with me, really...
Rurouni Kenshin is the property of Nobuhiro Watsuki. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.
NIGHTMARE
There was a muffled cry, sneaking out of the covers.
Another nightmare.
How long is this going to last?, he wondered in the pitch-black. His unshed tears grew on his throat, almost choking him.
Mercifully, it had been faked, out of his late wife's brother's hatred: she was alive, she had not really died – though every night it hurt as she did have.
Her cheek marred with the same scar that he bore on his. Her heart broken by the sword of the pure and white-hot revenge that he deserved. Her blood pouring out of her chest, tainting her clothes, and infusing more blame into his already guilt-ridden heart.
He closed his eyes, trying to banish all the images his mind couldn't stop recalling. His throat worked.
It's just a nightmare, he told himself. Tomorrow I will wake up. Tomorrow everything will be fine.
