Consumed by an unadulterated fear, sickness coursed through her, knotting into her DNA. Terror gripped her so intensely her insides cocooned. Her body, a rupture of implicit silences like a violent storm crashing against the seafloor creating a chasm. The pink fist like organ in her chest, slaughtered and war-torn. Leaky eyes and choked lungs; bones becoming wood, the itchy air igniting flames from within. Black ice infecting the warm liquid that streamed through her veins, no thump thump thump left in her heart.
Gasping for air as she runs from the overpowering storm, rain drops pound against her skin. The water washes everything away, she’s consumed by a foreign, unrecognisable selfishness. Her lungs on fire aching for air, legs burning as the muscles clench she staggers.
Raindrops like leeches pulls at the memories from her mind.
“LAILA, LAILA HELP ME! PLEASE I DON’T WANT TO DIE!!”
Screams echoed around the room. Realising they were mine I closed my hand tightly over my mouth. I was drenched in sweat, though the room was cold. Shuddering I untangled myself from the messy sheets. I opened the window. The darkness felt suffocating, a perilous abyss. They were out of my reach.
Locked lips and silent screams
Quiet whispers as you walk past
A freak of nature, a mistake,
Limbs burn and ashes fall.
Broken bridges turned to ashes,
Unrepairable, forever destroyed
Reach me not, venomous touch
Destroy all in waves of floods.
They were like hawks watching their prey, their wrath emitting towards me in waves. The glass reflecting my defeated self with my acceptance of what would come. My shaky palms moist as I brushed them against my jumper.
Screams left her mouth, each an octave higher. Unaware that I stopped, my knees buckled and I fell to the ground. A door scraped the stone floor; her screams persecuted me. Vibrations shook the walls, electricity shot through my spine and awakened me, if under some pretense had I thought this hallucination. Hearing the lashes from the belt whip against her, my skin prickled and blistered with pain. Grunts and sighs echoing around me.
“You can’t come Lucy!” screamed Rosie, slamming the wardrobe door behind her. Rage filled the ten year old as she reached for Dad’s hammer. CRACK! Adrenaline pulsed through her, shards of wood splintering everywhere.
She sat amongst the dismantled wardrobe, her siblings trapped in Narnia forever, grief suddenly taking over.