04-04-2021, 08:52 PM
The bleeding had stopped eventually, as if the dream thing had willed it to.
The flesh had stitched itself back together and she had made herself whole again.
The fever had broken and the physical pain of it had subsided.
The stars had remained tangled in her hair, though. Whether the dream thing had left or she had left him, she was not sure.
But the river was somewhere far away and her thoughts were no longer muddy. The air around her glowed lilac as she moved through the darkness, throwing her features into stark relief. Could she find the dream thing again if she looked hard enough? Or would that end in disappointment the same way her only other friendship had ended, too?
The cursed heart in her chest twinges with the memory (not distant enough not to hurt yet) as she makes her way through the thick underbrush of the forest. There is some small, distant part of her that longs for the fever, the bliss of delirium. Things had hurt less when she’d believed them a dream. Even as she’d dripped blood into the turbulent river, aching.
There had been no loneliness, no bitterness, no fear.
She peers into the darkness, remembering the sharp sting of agony that had torn through her some days before as the shadows had sunk their teeth into her flesh. The heart beats frantic in her chest as she quickens her pace, hurrying, until panic seizes her and she begins to run.
And she runs until she collides with something solid.
The flesh had stitched itself back together and she had made herself whole again.
The fever had broken and the physical pain of it had subsided.
The stars had remained tangled in her hair, though. Whether the dream thing had left or she had left him, she was not sure.
But the river was somewhere far away and her thoughts were no longer muddy. The air around her glowed lilac as she moved through the darkness, throwing her features into stark relief. Could she find the dream thing again if she looked hard enough? Or would that end in disappointment the same way her only other friendship had ended, too?
The cursed heart in her chest twinges with the memory (not distant enough not to hurt yet) as she makes her way through the thick underbrush of the forest. There is some small, distant part of her that longs for the fever, the bliss of delirium. Things had hurt less when she’d believed them a dream. Even as she’d dripped blood into the turbulent river, aching.
There had been no loneliness, no bitterness, no fear.
She peers into the darkness, remembering the sharp sting of agony that had torn through her some days before as the shadows had sunk their teeth into her flesh. The heart beats frantic in her chest as she quickens her pace, hurrying, until panic seizes her and she begins to run.
And she runs until she collides with something solid.
@[The Monsters] please mess with her stars!