Air choked out of her lungs as the heavy hand slammed into her waist from the behind. Hell wrapped around her as her equilibrium threatened to crash. With her mind reeling, she turned around in
danger's arms and snapped her wrist back, surging it forward in one fluid motion.
Time. What is time? It is nothing. Time as we know it doesn't exist. To think that as we relax on the couch, watching the TV and eating a bag of popcorn, in some alternate universe,
we are the past.
Her pursuer easily dodged, his head snapping back as his body went along with the movement. As his body bent in half, his arm around her tightened and he pulled her struggling mass down with him.
They fell to the ground with a thud that terrified her very being and she fought against the crashing in her ears. With her palm clenching into a fist, she allowed him to roll her over. As her back
met with the concrete floor, she begged to the gods that this would not be her last fight.
The adrenaline rush from a fight was amazing. It sent her on an extraordinary high. Pressing her lips together in a tight line, she struggled. Her attacker sat on her waist and she took the
chance. He leg kicked out and her knee slammed against his back. The force sent him toppling onto her as she caught him off guard. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she twisted as his arms
flailed. The echoing snap shattered through the heavy rain.
...Time is what we made it to be. Time is our existence. Time is an excuse.
"Sorry honey. Time flew by and I didn't notice...Please forgive me."
"Sweetie, your birthday party is going to start soon. Don't worry. Everyone will be here on time."
"Ah see! I'm exactly on time! And to think you gave me a lecture on punctuality!"
What a joke! Excuses, excuses, excuses. And who's to blame? Time. Time is a convenience. Time is non existent. Time is a lie...
She pushed the man's carcass off of her, feeling dirty. Rubbing her hands on her jeans, she looked down to the body of the man she thought she knew. Feeling the wind brush through her tendrils of
obsidian hair, she looked around. The decrepit apartment looked like the perfect dumping spot. Rough, ashen walls with weathered stains and graffiti all over them; a wall enclosing the entire
estate off and leaving it for dead; overgrown shrubbery that cut through her feet; three-storey once-an-apartment-building with shattered windows and a rickety porch.
Shaking her head, Pandora walked away from the body and approached the building. The heavy rain poured down on her as thunder cracked and lit the sky. She tentatively reached out and touched the
wooden beam keeping the ruined porch in place. The smell of death clouded the air and she held her breath as she inched toward the door. Putting her hand on the knob, she twisted.
...To think, as we walk through the days and mourn life and our past, we are the future to ourselves in another dimension. To think, they are suffering through what we
suffered through... if only we could change the past. Well, the past as we know it...
Pushing past the door, Pandora walked into the hall. The smell of decaying wood and rotting flesh assaulted her and she took a deep breath, shuddering as she did so. Glancing around, she
noticed the decaying walls, molten with dirt; shattered glass lay at the bottom of the simple staircase leading upstairs. Walking across the simple oak floors and feeling the splinters across her
bare feet, Pandora stepped onto the marble steps -a huge contrast next to the rotten interiors of the apartment.
Pandora reached the next flight of stairs and walked across the hallways, hurrying her pace as she heard running footsteps behind her.
Racing across the hall, she reached the door at the very end of the hallway and threw it open, bounding into the room. Giving the plain and empty room only a split second glance, Pandora ran and
barged into the balcony. Looking down, she smiled at the trench cut just deep enough to kill a person.
The sound of stumbling footsteps and manly pants came from behind her and she turned around. Pandora turned to look at her once dead assassin, Lohon. A slow smile spread across her face as she
climbed up onto the rails.
"Pandora...please, don't. I beg of you, please. I love you, Pandora. Just...don't."
Pandora smiled at her lover for the last time and waved at him.
"Goodbye, my love. Take care of the sacrifices." She mumbled and let herself go.
The fall was a long one. Lohon's tears cascaded down his face as he watched Pandora fall slowly, her hair whipping through the cold breeze, her arms spread, her simple white dress floating around
her in a halo of pureness. Clenching his teeth, he swore and looked up at the sky, his pride melting away under the impact of the thunderous storm.
The thud of her body smashing onto the floor was sickening. Swallowing back his bile, he tripped over to the railing to just look at his lover's face once more.
It was mangled. No longer was she the Pandora he knew. Her blood pooled around her and washed away into nothingness. Her eyes closed, her neck bent at an odd angle and her arms and legs twisted; he
knew she was gone.
Pandora was dead.
And the ritual had been performed.
...To think, we are the present...no, that isn't right. We aren't right. We are nothing but creators. We are nothing but deceivers.
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