What Once Was...

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Was....the word that haunted every shadow and gave the glimmer of the stars a darker look to her eyes. Eyes now dulled by the years, glazed with acts of cruelty and her inhuman nature. The park bench she sat on was cold and hard, but it mattered not. She didn't feel temperatures anymore, and the hardness of the bench....nothing compared to her existance now. It was comforting in a way...something so mundane, so day-to-day, still something she was able to touch. Glancing up at the stars, she sighed, wondering what the dawn looked like once more. Banished forever to the darkness of the nights, she spent most of those cold hours trying to remember what the sun's caress felt like, or what the pearly colors of the dawn could paint a leaf as. This night...the anniversary of her fall...brought back more memories than any other could, and that is why she loathed it so. This was easier when memories were faint, misty, indistinct. Her grey eyes, once soft and gentle, now the color of cold stone, watched the man sitting on a swing in the child's playset. He seemed distracted, looking at the slide with a longing expression. Once, this might have touched her heart, the way he held a child's toy in one hand, and the obviously pained look in his eyes. Once perhaps....but not now. She rose easily, walking towards him, slinking through the shadows, watching as a predator does a desired prey. Oblivious to all but his own thoughts, looking sadly at the small yo-yo in his hands, the man did not hear the soft footsteps creeping up on him. She was quick, as always, and bit his throat hard and rapidly, drawing the life's blood in a warm gush. The coldness inside her was soothed for a brief moment at the warmth spreading down her throat. She sat by the cooling body, toying with the yo-yo. Blood stained her white and pink dress, and her lace-trimmed socks, sticky on her hands and dried in her golden curls. Those stone grey eyes, so innocent in a five-year old's face, now icy as she set the yo-yo besides the man who had given it to her. Rising, his lifeblood on her lips, she walked off into the darkness, leaving what was behind on the bloody sand.

-- Angel (keita@my.sanguinus.com), July 25, 2002

Answers

Where are you Angel? I want to read some more.

-- Kant (kant@kant.com), September 22, 2002.

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