Break Trump

With a fury, I hacked at the vines that dangling before me, slicing through them mercilessly. Green sap oozed from the cuts on the vines, coating my blade a poisonous green.

I slashed till my arms were tired, my legs worn. Cuts from the briars and thorns of the overhanging vegetation peppered my skin. I was bleeding, yes, bleeding from all the wounds and injuries I had sustained all over my body. But physical pain dimmed in comparison with the agony that I was undergoing emotionally, so much so that I did not feel any pain even though one particularly large briar buried itself deep into my arm.

"Natasha…" His words carried more emotions than I could decipher. "Natasha…I…"

"Joshua… it's alright." Her words carried nostalgia, sadness, hope and a glimmer of tenderness?

I happened to be strolling in the woods when I had come upon the two of them together in the clearing, surrounded by a ring of white toadstools. Not wanting to be discovered, I had slipped behind a large oak and eavesdropped on their conversation.

Not daring to make a single sound, I silently turned.

Joshua's eyes gleamed as he slowly unfolded and stretched out his arms. Natasha wore her sad smile, the one that she wore everywhere she went no matter what happened around her. Gently, she leaned into his embrace, head against his chest. A few glistening tears spilled down her porcelain cheeks as she sighed and closed her eyes.

They made such a perfect picture of silent bliss.

Sweat ran down my forehead and dripped from my chin. Wet strands of hair stuck to the sides of my face. My arms and legs were covered with a salty mixture of blood and sweat. Yet, I continued working, slashing aimlessly at the interfering vegetation in my way.

Everything felt numb.

I opened my mouth, but my throat was parched, and no sounds came out at all. I tried to shut my ears, but their sighs and words were still resounding deep within my ear canal, replaying over and over again. I took deep breaths, but every breath I took made me even more breathless than before. I shut my eyes tightly, but the image of them together, that perfect picture, danced over and over again before my eyes.

"Natasha…I…"

"Joshua… it's alright."

Distinctly, I heard something deep within me shatter. Darkness swarmed before my eyes, threatening to engulf me. Their words replayed over and over again, each time increasing in volume and intensity. I saw the two of them looking at me, mocking me, laughing at me, dissipating into empty air as I tried to grab at them.

Chest heaving, I tried to take in as much oxygen as possible to stop myself from losing consciousness, but each breath was a struggle, a fight. A sharp pain pierced through my chest every time I even tried to gasp for air.

There was just one solution.

Run.

I felt pain like a pinprick on my arm. Dropping my shamshir, I watched with glazed eyes as a black snake flicker its bright red tongue in my direction, its enormous amber eyes burning with fury. Slowly, it uncoiled itself from my arm; its fangs were coated with blood.

My blood.

I clutched my arm as the cobra slithered away into the bushes where it had come from. It had hurt, but only for a moment.

A dizzyingly sweet feeling cruised through my arm, bringing me to the brink of intoxication. I slumped onto the ground. A cloying sweet taste seeped into my mouth, wet, sticky and viscous. A sickening sweet fragrance flooded my nose, drowning me in a sea of sweetness.

I was hallucinating.

I had to be.

It felt as though I had fallen into a pool of sugar quicksand, only that the sand were grains of sugar. I was surely and slowly being sucked under the sugar into the waiting pool of water. I knew that after my head went under the water too, my fate would be sealed. Yet the honeyed feel of the entire situation seemed to repackage danger in such a way such that at the moment, the invitation of a sweet, drunken fall into my world of illusions seemed like a tempting offer.

Sweet, sweeter, sweetest…I was delusional. Closing my eyes, I leaned against the tree trunk. My breaths were coming out in short pants…honey, golden and fluid…my limbs felt like lead…a bottle of golden liquid, drowning me in its essence, granting me an escape…a road to my imagination…

"Marisa!"

Hush, whatever you are.

"Marisa!" Vaguely, I heard someone yell my name over and over. It sounded so distant, so small. Irritably, I tried waving my hand at the irritating source of the noise. Could they not let someone enjoy their sweet dream while it lasts?

Cream…thick and white and sweet…dollops of cream…

My jaws were forced open and a cold liquid slid in. It seemed to burn a path down my throat to my stomach with its bitterness.

The sweetness was fading rapidly…the sea of syrup receded…the dollops of cream vaporized before my very eyes…the air was no longer sweet, and was instead perfumed by a acrid and pungent odour.

The quick-sugar vanished. The gold and vibrant colours disappeared. I felt as though I had been plunged into a river of ice; I had never felt that aware of my existence, the lifeblood in my veins.

No…my honeyed dreams…come back…I need them…I need that piece of intoxication…that feeling of evasion…

Please…come back…

Back...

Personally, I find this chapter a little weird. And a little short. But oh well, poison can do many things to a person. The next chapter will be, I promise, more down-to-earth and realisatic. And it'll be way longer too. Review please! Thanks!