Edgeling
I entered the dimly lit room. It took awhile for my eyes to adjust. In the faint light, I could trace the faint outlines of various furnishings. I saw what I had not noticed when I first came in. A lone figure sat at a desk. Judging from the mousy brown hair,that was in a ponytail, it was a girl. By her size, I would've guessed she was no older than eight or nine. Her clothes were simple, a loose white shirt, and a pair of brown linen trousers. Though, the desk and chair upon which she sat were ornate. They were a rich mahoghany with little birds, flowers and trees carved into them.
Her small figure was a bit hunched forward. I crept closer, to get a better look. As I peeked into her face, I gasped, and stood entranced with horror. She had no face. It looked as though it had been torn off. The blood oozed from the red mask she wore, staining her starch-white blouse. It dripped upon a piece of parchment, making it look like red velvet. An inkwell was tipped over, making other leafs of the parchment become onyx. Entertwined with the delicate pale fingers on one of her limp hands, was a quill, still wet with ink. Clutched in the other, was an amethyst embedded in gold, dangling from the charm was a fragile chain.
There were no traces of a struggle, simply a mask of tissue, muscle and blood with an excess of the reddish life source upon her garments and stationary. Slowly, I began to weep. The salty liquid poured from my eyes until I racked helplessly with sobs. A lone tear fell upon the dead girl.
I awoke with the tears I cired in my sleep staining my bedclothes. 'No.', I thought 'I don't want these dreams.' This was only the third dream of its kind, but yet it felt as though the list as well as the dreams were endless. Slowly, I brought my weakening form to the mirror. I glanced into my normally bright green eyes, they were now with only a small flicker of life shone in their pale olive colour. My usually messy raven hair was no longer sticking up in every direction, but hanging listlessly from my head. Drooping eyelids along with dark pouches and sunken-in cheeks added to my look. The others had notied the change, in my looks as well as my attitude.
My shoulders and head, once held high, often just hung on my body, like helpless little children. I merely shuffled and dragged myself from place to place, rather than walked proudly. I no longer had a smile or grin to offer, just a pair of lifeless pale pink forms that may have been a pair lips in another life. My appetite had been severly diminshed and left me an urchin. Clothes and skin hung loosely on me. My school work was unattented, as were the people around me. I rarely went to class anymore. All I did was deny the thoughts and ignore the voices, but try as I might, neither let me. They all thoguht something was wrong. No, I was just going crazy.
End.
I entered the dimly lit room. It took awhile for my eyes to adjust. In the faint light, I could trace the faint outlines of various furnishings. I saw what I had not noticed when I first came in. A lone figure sat at a desk. Judging from the mousy brown hair,that was in a ponytail, it was a girl. By her size, I would've guessed she was no older than eight or nine. Her clothes were simple, a loose white shirt, and a pair of brown linen trousers. Though, the desk and chair upon which she sat were ornate. They were a rich mahoghany with little birds, flowers and trees carved into them.
Her small figure was a bit hunched forward. I crept closer, to get a better look. As I peeked into her face, I gasped, and stood entranced with horror. She had no face. It looked as though it had been torn off. The blood oozed from the red mask she wore, staining her starch-white blouse. It dripped upon a piece of parchment, making it look like red velvet. An inkwell was tipped over, making other leafs of the parchment become onyx. Entertwined with the delicate pale fingers on one of her limp hands, was a quill, still wet with ink. Clutched in the other, was an amethyst embedded in gold, dangling from the charm was a fragile chain.
There were no traces of a struggle, simply a mask of tissue, muscle and blood with an excess of the reddish life source upon her garments and stationary. Slowly, I began to weep. The salty liquid poured from my eyes until I racked helplessly with sobs. A lone tear fell upon the dead girl.
I awoke with the tears I cired in my sleep staining my bedclothes. 'No.', I thought 'I don't want these dreams.' This was only the third dream of its kind, but yet it felt as though the list as well as the dreams were endless. Slowly, I brought my weakening form to the mirror. I glanced into my normally bright green eyes, they were now with only a small flicker of life shone in their pale olive colour. My usually messy raven hair was no longer sticking up in every direction, but hanging listlessly from my head. Drooping eyelids along with dark pouches and sunken-in cheeks added to my look. The others had notied the change, in my looks as well as my attitude.
My shoulders and head, once held high, often just hung on my body, like helpless little children. I merely shuffled and dragged myself from place to place, rather than walked proudly. I no longer had a smile or grin to offer, just a pair of lifeless pale pink forms that may have been a pair lips in another life. My appetite had been severly diminshed and left me an urchin. Clothes and skin hung loosely on me. My school work was unattented, as were the people around me. I rarely went to class anymore. All I did was deny the thoughts and ignore the voices, but try as I might, neither let me. They all thoguht something was wrong. No, I was just going crazy.
End.