Sanity (part 4)


Little white flakes… Pure and cold… Covering everything. So peaceful. So lonely. So deep. And dark… ad infinitum…

And on the shore of the Great lake of salty tears stood a girl near a yellow-red rose bush. Gently she touches the flowers, covered with frost, looking as they were pure fire crystals. Soft and beautiful, but as sharp as blades. The frost bites into her fingers like a hungry kitten, making her smile. Her eyes, covered with diamonds, frozen tears that will never slip down. Her breath is coming out of her mouth as little steam clouds… mixing with the mist that slowly spreads from the nearby forest. Her hair is made of icicles, her skin as white as marble. Such a cold and terrifyingly alluring scene.

A man came out of the mists.

–          What are you doing here? It’s crazy cold.

–          No, it’s not… And what does it look like I’m doing, Andy?

–          Mhm. I don’t know. You haven’t talk to me in a long time.

–          Do I need to?… Don’t you know everything, aren’t you everywhere?…

–          I may do and be. But it’s not the same as you telling me what you see and feel…

She smiled again, still looking at the bush like in some kind of a trance. From the place Andy was standing for a second it looked like the thorns were getting bigger and sharper. And then, with all her strength she stuck her hand right into the thickest part of the thorns. Letting them cut her. Little deep red spots appeared in the white snow. The roses sparkled even more, washed in dew of blood. Her blood.

He came to her quickly, started washing her wounds with snow, bandaging her palm with his handkerchief.

–          For god’s sake woman, what the hell are you trying to do?!? To freeze to death, to cut your hands, what? And WHY?!?!?!?

–          Couse I can only feel pain. An only that can prove me that I’m still alive… – she answered, looking at her cut fingers with the same strange gaze.

Andy took her in his arms, carrying her in the castle to get her warm near the fire.

The rose bush still stood there, with blossoms covered with frost, looking as they were pure fire crystals. Soft and beautiful, but as sharp as blades. Sparkling with blood.

And from the mist near the forest someone else was looking at the bush… But you could only see his eyes and smile… Almost as the Cheshire Cat…


~ от Джен на декември 9, 2011.

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