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((Something I wrote in 5 minutes to spruce up my writing urge. Hope it paints a picture.))
A woman stood in the midst of a field, bodies lingering the surface. The retched smell of the dead filled her nostrils and she almost gagged. Her emerald eyes shifted towards the blood red sky, and a frown crossed her lips. The blood of the innocent had to go somewhere, and she figured the sky acted like a sponge, soaking it all up.
The woman’s ebony hair blew around her face, almost to shoo her away. Remind her that she didn’t belong here, for she still had a beating heart. Though, one would argue, her skin was almost the color of many of those that lay at her feet. But, whatever was guiding her away was right. She didn’t belong here. Turning, the woman picked her way through the field, going for a castle on the hill.
She never forgot the war. If you were bold enough to call it a war, anyway. It had been a feud, really. A simple battle over land that escalated into something far greater. Her father and her older brother, to be honest, were the cause. Both powerful, greedy, and with great allies. It disgusted her to think that it was her own family that had been the building blocks of this.
Pushing the thought from her mind, she entered the garden that she loved so. It was winter, so the ground was littered with a blanket of white. The only flowers that still stood were the roses, which were all dead—like everything else around for miles. All accept her, anyway.
A frown crossed the woman’s lips, something that tended to happen a lot lately. This garden just seemed so…pure…for the destruction that lingered everywhere else. It needed to be fixed. Taking a dead rose, she crushed the thorn into her fingertips. Drops of blood fell to the snow, staining its purity.
For the first time, she smiled. “Better…” Then, without another word, she turned and left.
RaysofDarkness · Sun Aug 06, 2006 @ 04:27am · 2 Comments |
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