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A little something to give you a taste of what my writing will be like. I'm actually really fond of this one.


Submitted:Jun 18, 2013    Reads: 28    Comments: 2    Likes: 1   


\lliiilijnjnuhinundushivdgg littling little in"""""I """"" "" IIIiiiiknow infbehk

"I know what he did to you..." a tinkling little voice whispered in her ear.

"It's in your eyes…on your face…Radiating from you very core…"

The young, disheveled woman stiffened and shrunk back as the little girl whispered to her. The words slithered around her quivering figure. Crept through her mind. Smothered every ounce of self control that she had left. Crushed the little that was remained of her sanity.

What had been done to her?

Why had it been her?

Who had done it?

Hot streams of bitter anger rolled down her smudged and dirty cheeks. A sob choked its way from thin and cracked lips.

She couldn't stop it.

Didn't want to stop it.

The sobs wracked her body.

Her hair, greasy and matted fell into her eyes.

Her very soul shattered.

And then…

Then it happened.

Two new appendages erupted through the flesh of her back.

The world turned red and she toppled off the bench to the cool ground. Her scream was silent. Seeming to be forever frozen on her face as she waited for death.

Waited for her pain to be lulled by endless darkness and relief.

She waited.

And waited.

But relief never came.

The only sound was the deafening drip, drip, drip, of her own blood descending from rough, angular wings.

They were ugly.

Like a moth instead of a butterfly.

"I know what he did to you..." a tinkling little voice whispered in her ear.

"It's in your eyes…on your face…Radiating from you very core…"

The young, disheveled woman stiffened and shrunk back as the little girl whispered to her. The words slithered around her quivering figure. Crept through her mind. Smothered every ounce of self control that she had left. Crushed the little that was remained of her sanity.

What had been done to her?

Why had it been her?

Who had done it?

Hot streams of bitter anger rolled down her smudged and dirty cheeks. A sob choked its way from thin and cracked lips.

She couldn't stop it.

Didn't want to stop it.

The sobs wracked her body.

Her hair, greasy and matted fell into her eyes.

Her very soul shattered.

And then…

Then it happened.

Two new appendages erupted through the flesh of her back.

The world turned red and she toppled off the bench to the cool ground. Her scream was silent. Seeming to be forever frozen on her face as she waited for death.

Waited for her pain to be lulled by endless darkness and relief.

She waited.

And waited.

But relief never came.

The only sound was the deafening drip, drip, drip, of her own blood descending from rough, angular wings.

They were ugly.

Like a moth instead of a butterfly.





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