Loramir
12-05-2010, 10:37 PM
This is an over-descriptive cliché outburst of things :D
It was inspired by a recent campaign for the awareness of child abuse... basically a lot of cack from my mind but I hope you enjoy this miniature short story
Lora x
The violent crunch of leaves beneath my feet chased me through the bracken. With every leap, an acerbic array of thorns griped at my ankles, stripping me bare of my dignity and skin. The white-washed face that stared hopelessly back in every reflection grew pale and gaunt as the blood rushed to my feet. I could no longer run, I could no longer scream, nobody would come for they were blissfully sleeping, under the moon’s cruel spell. All at once canopies of imposing trees and chattering birds caved in on me and the greyish murmur of colour dissipated into black, its hands engulfing my eyes, blinding me from the far off light of breaking dawn. Then fell the bitter silence. The very silence I once took solitude in had betrayed me, boding me unsafe passage in my escape, for it concealed the ambush of blast after violent blast, attacking from all directions. The sounds of the urban jungle awaking, street noises deceiving and swallowing me whole like a visceral viper. My defences down, my white flag risen, he stole that which was not his, and I gave all that was mine. Torn.
It was inspired by a recent campaign for the awareness of child abuse... basically a lot of cack from my mind but I hope you enjoy this miniature short story
Lora x
The violent crunch of leaves beneath my feet chased me through the bracken. With every leap, an acerbic array of thorns griped at my ankles, stripping me bare of my dignity and skin. The white-washed face that stared hopelessly back in every reflection grew pale and gaunt as the blood rushed to my feet. I could no longer run, I could no longer scream, nobody would come for they were blissfully sleeping, under the moon’s cruel spell. All at once canopies of imposing trees and chattering birds caved in on me and the greyish murmur of colour dissipated into black, its hands engulfing my eyes, blinding me from the far off light of breaking dawn. Then fell the bitter silence. The very silence I once took solitude in had betrayed me, boding me unsafe passage in my escape, for it concealed the ambush of blast after violent blast, attacking from all directions. The sounds of the urban jungle awaking, street noises deceiving and swallowing me whole like a visceral viper. My defences down, my white flag risen, he stole that which was not his, and I gave all that was mine. Torn.