Britny (narutoninjagirl) wrote in amaashi_art,



I sit in this dark and dank room, my bare knees to my hollowed chest. The scent of rotting wood and hauntingly chilly air sends my body into a chain of unpleasant shivers. I would leave, but I am trapped in here. The door is locked and the windows are all sealed shut, except this one that I sit before. It is small and round with a crack in the corner. It’s my only passage to the outside world, which I so longingly wish to step foot upon. But I know I can’t. I can’t ever leave, according to master. But, where is my master? I have not heard his footsteps on the creaky stairs up to his bed, or the sound of running water for when he takes his nightly bath. It’s been nothing but deafening silence since I got put up here. How long has it been? I have had no food or water for a week, at the least. My stomach is always churning and knotting itself, begging me to feed it even the most minuscule crumb of stale bread. I ignore the tight pain as I have for the past few days and stare into the opaque, black sky as it starts to rain. It’s always raining, but it never seems to flood. I listen to the rain hit the glass of my window; pitter, patter. The droplets curve and weave down the pane. Each drop seems to intensify until the shower becomes a downpour. The lightning strikes outside and I see a girl in my window. She is disgustingly pale and lanky; her dark hair is wiry and tangled. Her gray eyes are sunken and cold, they show such a pain that I can relate to. Her slight-pink tinted cheeks are tear-drenched. She is alone in the dark. We stare at each other as if we had never seen another person in our entire lives. I reached my hand out to touch her. She copied me flawlessly. I put my palm down on the icy glass. I saw my skeletal like fingers spread apart and slide down the glass. She sat there and looked at me, her eyes darted right than left, and locked down by the pillar where I sleep. Her eyes widened with fear, tears that merely brimmed them now streamed down her already wet cheeks. She raised her hand and pointed to something behind me. I turned my head steadily and saw my small, moth eaten blanket. It looked normal as could be, except for when I saw dark, wiry hair and two pale feet sticking out from underneath. My body rose from its former position and I seemed to glide over to the corpse. With a sickening feeling in the pit of stomach, I raised the blanket just enough to see the top half of the dead body. The tangled mess of hair framed her delicate features. Her eyes were rolled back; her mouth was agape as though she had been struggling through immense pain for even a single breath. One of her hands was clutching her tattered shirt tightly, while the other lay upon her visible, hollow stomach. Tightened skin around her ribs showed she had been starved. Then I realized that this girl, who lay before me dead, was none other than me! That was my hair, my shirt, and MY body. Hysteria swept over me; I laughed at the corpse in front of me, I broke into a feverish sweat, tremors took control of my body. Eventually, paranoia made me fall unconscious.
I raised my head from my bare knees that I was hugging to my chest. I looked out my window. It looks like it's going to rain again.
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