Drabble Two
Your long golden hair gleams in the dull sunlight that filters through the window, sending a chill down my spine; such beauty should not be allowed. Matting together with lingering sweat and slowly drying blood, your hair lay against the pillow behind your head in disarray. The golden hair morphing into a revolting dulled auburn colored straw. The sunlight however, favored not your hair but favored to rest upon the smooth inconsistencies of your forehead. The deep pit mark right above your brow, taking in the most light. It is apparent that you have been moved as it is quite impossible for blood to run through your hair at that angle. A brief thought of wonder crossed my mind, wondering how you have gotten this way.I can feel a thin layer of blood smeared across my palms. And smell the spattering of the liquid across my nose. My eyes see the beauty in your rest, the way the smooth red liquid caresses your open eye. Fright fading to pools of indiscernible liquid. The silence that waits upon stale metallic tasting air echoes in my mind. The peace puts my mind at ease, and my arm goes slack, the gun falling with a dull thud. Out of my hand, to the carpet.