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Literature Text
A young woman rested, exhausted against a dilapidated wall, taking refuge in her solitude and the suffocating atmosphere and scent of decay. She breathed deep into her lungs, slowly exhaling a shallow release. Ignoring the hollow void filling her chest, she hummed tunelessly, sunlight falling over her hair, hanging lifelessly over bruised, emaciated cheekbones.
She stroked damaged fingernails over her perforated veins, blood-red cuticles pressing into the shame and depression of a drug-induced existence, as if wishing to release her grief and pain. Broken chords echoed in her mind, an uneasy dissonance of imposing dread.
She dragged her body across the floor, pulling the child to her with unnerving desperation and sickness. Unfolding the soft, deep blue curls of the blankets, her eyes swept over a tiny pale wrist, lying open against the darker background, fragile bones casting a striking dissimilarity to the heavy cloth.
Exposed and vulnerable, the delicate body gently rose and fell, innocent in its defenseless frailty, its heartbreaking dependence on weaker beings ruined by selfishness and deceit. Here lay smooth, untainted skin, yet to know the unhallowed arts, sorrows and seductions of belief, sadness and sin.
The woman wrapped her pallid, sallow fingers around the forgotten child’s arm, feeling its heart beat, whispering a lullaby against its pulse. Her lips swept sleeping hands, slender, beautiful. Her anticipation seemed to fill the empty room.
Singing softly, she touched the resting child’s frail windpipe, hoping to cheat death, and follow its soul into the afterlife. Her sanity disappeared with the sunlight hours, and, staring blinded at her perceived path to eternal salvation, forgiveness and judgment, she forced the life from its mouth. Laughing in relief and wonder, she pushed the lethal dose into her blood, draining thought and vital signs, her eyelashes brushing the lifeless form lying broken in the dust.
She stroked damaged fingernails over her perforated veins, blood-red cuticles pressing into the shame and depression of a drug-induced existence, as if wishing to release her grief and pain. Broken chords echoed in her mind, an uneasy dissonance of imposing dread.
She dragged her body across the floor, pulling the child to her with unnerving desperation and sickness. Unfolding the soft, deep blue curls of the blankets, her eyes swept over a tiny pale wrist, lying open against the darker background, fragile bones casting a striking dissimilarity to the heavy cloth.
Exposed and vulnerable, the delicate body gently rose and fell, innocent in its defenseless frailty, its heartbreaking dependence on weaker beings ruined by selfishness and deceit. Here lay smooth, untainted skin, yet to know the unhallowed arts, sorrows and seductions of belief, sadness and sin.
The woman wrapped her pallid, sallow fingers around the forgotten child’s arm, feeling its heart beat, whispering a lullaby against its pulse. Her lips swept sleeping hands, slender, beautiful. Her anticipation seemed to fill the empty room.
Singing softly, she touched the resting child’s frail windpipe, hoping to cheat death, and follow its soul into the afterlife. Her sanity disappeared with the sunlight hours, and, staring blinded at her perceived path to eternal salvation, forgiveness and judgment, she forced the life from its mouth. Laughing in relief and wonder, she pushed the lethal dose into her blood, draining thought and vital signs, her eyelashes brushing the lifeless form lying broken in the dust.
macabre fiction prose written for the Literati contest/prompt "cheating".
not quite happy with it, but I'm sick of looking at it so
I give permission to ~HorrorWriters to submit this in their gallery.
not quite happy with it, but I'm sick of looking at it so
I give permission to ~HorrorWriters to submit this in their gallery.
© 2008 - 2024 Rosary0fSighs
Comments28
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This is basically flash fiction, isn't it? I loved it. Very dark and twisted. Were it not for the 1500 word minimum, I would say this story was a contender for the DSFP. If you could stretch it to even 800 words without compromising the story, I might make an exception. But I think this one was meant to be as it is. Good luck if you intend to submit other work, however, as you definitely have talent. 