New Women’s Chiffon Tops. They’re just so chiffon-y.

Sorry! Not Finished

The scar burned against her skin, flowing through her veins and clinging to her insides. She could see it in her eyes, for she was looking into a mirror. She tried to relieve it by splashing her face with water, many times she had done this, but it never had worked. The pain she felt now was only an ounce of what it had been before. Many times she had been scarred in so many different ways, and many times it had hurt badly and clung to her for months. This was nothing too extreme. She had had worse, but the fact that this was not only a scar on her outer layer. The fact that it had cracked her hard shell and spilled into her, made her weep, and pray for forgiveness. Pray to the heavens for all help in these troubling times. What she had done was unforgivable, but in pained her to think of it. She prayed that at least, if they were not to forgive her, that they strike her down right then and right there. She could not stand the pain, although it was nothing compared to her many battle wounds, it was a thousand times worse. For this was not just any scar. It had hurt her within and she cried day and night for the pain to go away, but ever morning when she woke up, it was still there just the same.
She looked up at her face, afraid that the scar would bring back the memory, and capture her once again. She had been a prisoner of her own pain for too long. She just wanted it all to stop. But, as she looked up at her herself, the memory slowly tangled itself back into her mind, and she fell to the floor in agony. How could she have been so stupid to have thought it wouldn’t be the same as it had been before? She wined, for it hurt her badly, but she had to deal with it no matter what, so she clawed the floor and smashed her fist down several times, hoping to soften or slow the pain. Of course, it didn’t work, but she continued to look for a way to change the mood.
All of a sudden, a sweet smell filled the room, suffocating her, and calming her nerves. A few chills rolled down her spine, as she slowly rose up from the floor. This scent that had filled her lungs, had not stopped the pain, but she felt it paralyzed beneath her skin. She clung to the smell as long she could, taking deep breaths, and inhaling as much of the sweet, sticky, warm smell that was possible. Her feet took two small steps toward the window, and she peered out, searching the night sky for signs of hope. Then quickly, twitched her head around, and saw, candles burning in her own home. They just sat there, flickering slightly now and then, as they lit the room.
She took in another deep breath, then exhaled. Were the candles the source of this sweet smell? But they had not been lit before, how could this be? She looked around once more, and glanced back out the window. There was a elderly looking woman in rags, exiting the building she lived in, just bellow. The woman fretted over something or other, but kept moving slowly towards her destination.
A knock on the door startled Diana, this is the name in which her mother had given her. She had never stuck to it, but had always used it in cases of emergency. She liked to be called Bella, for, to her, it sounded peaceful and more goddessy than her real name. Of course, her preferred name, Bella, was only part of her actual changed named that was on her license and many other forms and papers. Her full name, now stood as, Isabella, Isabella Altoid. The last name was not her own, but her mothers. The only reason it had been kept is because of her lack of human contact with any persons she truly loved. Keeping it seemed the right thing to do, to her, and made her feel some what special.
But that didn’t matter now. The rapping at the door had caught her off guard and she was about ready to pounce. Instead, she straighted herself up, and walked to the door. Reaching for the handle, she noticed that, that too, had been changed. Who had been in her apartment, she wondered? There was no time for this, so she opened the door a tad and peeked out.
Standing there, in the hall, was a younger man, with slicked back hair, and bright gold shoes. His outfit fit him well, for it was a suit of many colors. Parts were orange and pink, others blue and purple, all in all, it was very complex. She looked him up and down. He was very well kept for a man of his age. She suddenly wondered why he was there, but without explanation she opened the door to let him in. He stumbled towards the door, not able to find the right footing for his over sized feet, but soon caught himself on the door frame and walked on in.
Once inside, she shut the door, and watched him as he sank neatly into a chair by the window. Now, she thought, was the proper time to ask the questions, but before she had time to think, he spoke up, in a rather manly, but some what squeaky voice. “I have come to find you and bring you back. We are in grave danger and in need of your help!” The man ended the sentence as if he were punishing a dog for some wrong doing. Diana just stood there, staring at him. What was he talking about? The man noticed her confusion and spoke up again, this time more soothingly and kind than before. “The ‘Clown’ would like your help with his ‘circus’ business on Monday. Can you help?” He said the words, Clown and Circus, in quotes, motioning with his fingers. “Are you prepared for the ‘battle’?” This time Diana only looked more confused so the many sat still in thought for a moment and then got up quickly to move to her side.
“Remember the meadows of gold and white? The beautiful valleys and grass plains? Remember where you sat above us all, and where you played in the creaks?” He walked behind her, but she did not turn. He came up right next to her body and wrapped his arms around her stomach, softly resting his head on her shoulder. “Don’t you remember any of it?” He whispered in her ear. At that she jumped and lurched forward, only to be caught by his strong arms and pulled back into the affectionate embrace. She looked at him petrified, but he just rocked her back and forth in a soothing manner, trying to calm her down. He took her hand and yanked her towards the bed, tugging harder than necessary, because she was frozen in shock. He lightly picked her up, when her body refused to move, and sat her down on the bed.
His eyes burned through to her soul, and his arms wrapped back around her. He hummed a some what familiar lullaby as he laid her down. He came in extremely close, his face almost touching hers, but she didn’t even notice, she was in a trance. He bent in to kiss her softly on the cheek. Suddenly, memories flooded her mind. Tiny pictures danced across the pages of her thoughts, and her eyes shut tight in contentment. Images flashed upon her lids. Many memories, and many places that she had never seen, but remembered in full detail. Glimpses of her and a boy running, jumping, laughing and playing, slid by faster than she could have imagined possible. Too fast to actually catch a glimpse of what was really going on, but slow enough to understand what it all meant.
The pictures slowly faded and she opened her eyes, his face in front of hers. His eyes staring back at her with intense force, but this time she was not frightened of him. Now she felt a craving that only he could fulfill. His warmth made her sigh. All of a sudden she felt so at home, and she wished for things never to change. His came in further cautiously at first but then passionately and kissed her lips with as much love as his body was able. She then felt dizzy with delight, caught in another trance, but this time it was because of love and not shock or fear. He slowly rose from the bed and backed towards the door. She quickly sat up, sad that the moment might end too soon. “Where are you going?” She asked, with a hint of anticipation and worry in her voice. It was silent, he said nothing.
At first she thought he did not intend to speak, or even open his mouth, to answer the question she has set on the table, but sooner than later he began to talk. He spoke urgently as if there was not enough time. “I must go, they are waiting for me, they will send for you, you must obey what they say, they are not patient. They may appear at a time that is not right for you, but you must obey. You must obey!” He said the last words again as if he were scared too, of what might happen. He gazed into her eyes one last time, “Good bye,” he whispered and was gone. It seemed to Diana that he had vanished into thin air, but the door was unlocked and open. Funny, how she hadn’t seen it open and yet here it was, open as if it had been the whole time.
She focused in on the door, and stared at it for a few minutes before it finally sunk it that he was gone. It hurt her worse than it had before, the leaving of someone she loved. The killing of someone she adored, someone who was thought to be dead and hundreds of miles under the ground, under the moist soil that layered the rug in front of her. This time it was so much worse. For, the one that had left her, was the one that had died, and the realization that he was gone once again was terrifying beyond belief. Her toes curled under, and her scar began to burn, as she fell to the floor once again to cry over him and pray to the heavens for a quick death right there, right then.

Sorry! Not Finished

DevaDaDiva14

Santa Cruz, United States

  • Artist
    Notes

Artist's Description

I am so sorry for all my non finished work, but since I did not have time to copy any work from my papers, I started writing new things on here to start out, and to get everyone interested. Even though this is not a finished product, I hope you like it just the same. Thank you for viewing my work, I really appreciate the help in getting realized and noticed. Once again, Thank you all!

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