Silk

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A touch of silk changes her.

Submitted: May 19, 2014

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Submitted: May 19, 2014

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Silk

I had always been the mirror of other’s emotions. No definite feeling genuinely came from this hollowness. I am regarded as a lowly humble fool used only as a tool in times of need.

 A single stroke from a cello-like voice ignited something I was never allowed to have. I resisted, content of just being at a distance. The gap that stereotyped my very soul had another side.

The wind swished long copper strands of magnificent silk. The sun’s light dancing like molten gold on her natural crown. Milky skin matched every wardrobe. Thin red lips always curling into a smile. Small pointy nose adorned her oval-shaped face. Eyes, oh such mesmerizing brown orbs—sharp yet gentle.

What a vision of a strong, lively, and dignified youth.

Envy. Sorrow. Pain.

Everything must be contained. I am not worthy a rival. A person of great talent is nothing but a tool to a highly functioning socialite to expand horizons.

I feel so used but I did all this for all that’s worth.

I never got what I wanted.

Hatred. Sorrow. Pain. Numbness. Cruelty.

I wish I am incapable of trusting. It is fatal. All my heart cut off by vengeful shears. I watched locks wasted away. I let a great amount of memories be taken away from me. I was after all forever a fool. I will no longer sing my pleasantries with the strings of my crown.


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