It was as if a million needles were pricking the body, a feeling one may get when their circulation is cut off. A feeling of being underwater, as sound waves became heavy and dark clouds covered her eyesight. She was dying, melting into oblivion, and the idea became comforting.
Her chest stopped rising, her heart ceased beating, leaving an empty shell decorated in crimson in the waking world. She was trapped behind glass, or perhaps it was a plastic wrapping. The finger tips of her soul touched the walls of the flesh, and then broke free.
She became smoke, the remains of a cigarette, no longer of solid form. She took her tail in hand, her thoughts becoming dizzy and far apart. There was no choice, no comprehension, just surrendering. Not a word was spoken, nor a thought of regret or sadness, the only thing left was to descend into the dark heavens.
There was no fear as the world evaporated around her, there was the haunting sense that this was unusual, as unusual as dying could be. Shadows and figures twisted around her, ropes with thorns and mouths full of glass filled the void, welcoming her to an existence unknown to the mortal mind.
Was she becoming a sleeping beauty? Or was she becoming the poison apple? The beings watched, their eyes porcelain and and hungry, until some dared to step forward to the newcomer. There was going to be no awakening, the soul of a girl was unable to find the energy to resist, as if she was stuck under a drunken spell.
It was then when light was brought from the trenches, illuminating the darkness, erasing the tar made monsters. The feeling of warmth overwhelmed her, as her gaseous form tightened and compacted into a solid form once again. A breath of air filled her body and lungs, it became her blood, her vessels, and her mind. The wind twisted and weaved into flesh, stringed together a system of veins and nerves, creating dry lips and marble eyes.
Eyes that could see, and saw a purple kingdom standing in the midnight.
Once more, she lived.