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The biggest sin she could make was kissing someone. Her lips are poison. Over the years who soul had slowly been stained with her thoughts of sins. Without hate she might have choosen to just die long ago. Hate is what feuls her emotions. All her other emotions had been numbed out to where the point where they weren't there anymore. Can anyone save her blood stained soul?
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Submitted:Jan 11, 2011    Reads: 114    Comments: 6    Likes: 2   

I could feel the blood pounding in my ears as wind rushed pasted me. My heart was pounding in my chest as I saw the gleam of the needle. A scream escaped my lips. The only light in this place was the candle on the far table.
All the noise in the room was pounding against my ears. I could see faint marks on the ground beside me and puddles of blood. How many girls had been killed this way? I could hear nails click against the floor boards. I wonder who will kill me first the rats or this person. My mind wandered off to how many people had sat in this chair just like me waiting for their final moments of life to end.
He drew out a knife and pressed it to my neck. The cold touch of the blade grazed my skin. I winced a little and to his pleasure he just smiled and licked the blood off the knife. He bent down to place his lips against my cheek. His lips circle my skin but never actually pressing down and kissing me.
This was torture. I had never been more hurt in my life. Tears began to stream down my face I could taste their saltiness. He was so tempting to me and I wanted to kiss him back so much. I wanted to trace my mouth over his and kiss him. I wanted to feel his lips press against my soft lips. I wanted to taste the sweetness of his mouth.
Stop that, you aren't allow to think that way about him. Then his lips began to linger against mind and I could taste the blood that rested on his lips. I traced my lips against his almost ready to press down. He opened his mouth a little more and drove the needle into my lips. He pulled the needle tight through the first stitching and went onto the next
Each time he drove the needle deeper into my lips and every time he muffled out my screams with his hand. I could taste the blood on my lips warming my mouth. I could taste all the salt in my mouth almost throwing it back up. He tilted my head forcing me to shallow down my own blood.
He finished with the last stitch pulling it tight on my lips. The black thread in lips was thick and wouldn't break. Blood dried on my lips. He traced his lips on mine once more teasing me with the thought that he would give me my first kiss.
He walked away from me blowing out the candle leaving me there to die.


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