The crimson silk dress blanketing her bed was so dark and so seemingly undisturbed that it appeared as though someone had been murdered and then abandoned to the classical music reverberating throughout the room from a small record player placed purposefully at the center of her nightstand. It was deliberately positioned adjacent to the photographs on top of which sat a strand of pearls whose golden clasp shown even more than usual in the brilliance of the lighted room.
Dark hair cascaded down the woman’s shoulders and as she combed through a series of knotted tangles, the mournful sound of the violin rose up from the record player to settle heavily onto her fingertips so that she had to return her silver comb to its velvet-lined case. Then, only seconds later a symphony of thunder nearly startled her enough to drop the fragile satin garment as she allowed it to lightly fall and settle, noiselessly to her feet. Seizing the pearls she left the glowing room without hesitation and continued out, splattering light onto the dark corridor as she pushed open the door and descended down the cold, hardwood steps. The bitter night air cruelly raped her flesh of warmth as it swept her dress sideways; creating a dramatic effect that left her wild looking in the moonlight.
New pavement moved along quickly, too quickly beneath her bare feet so that she stumbled onto her dress, catching the material, ripping it, revealing a purple bruise that had harassed her thigh with every step. Glancing down the woman observed the impressive affliction and nothing more. Now breathless, she began running, for the absence of sound had suddenly filled her ears with a familiar ness she couldn’t describe nor stand and in this instance she appeared like a modern version of snow white spilling throughout the menacing wood, aching with pain as unseen matter tore at her limbs.
A woman against herself, it was she who here, staring down from the rocks to the blue foam, watching it continually slice through a reflected image of a star-strangled sky. Still clutching the pearls, she brought the pallid strands around her neck so that they twisted into locking. Taking what could be a final step she perceived the wicked hand of selfish evil extend out towards her and now, for the first time, she hesitated as hellish laughter rose up from somewhere within the depths of her sub consciousness, compelling her to Sink down upon the sharp hardness of the ground. Collapsing inwardly, her hands clamped and crossed, resting heavily on each alternating shoulder. Humiliated by the laughter, but most of all by her own helplessness she whispered “I’m sorry,” before the sky tipped up and the stars smoldered away in their places. .