Innocence can be mistaken. By murder. The pain is always over, and replaced with hell. It can be fired, it can be a hallucination… a real one.
I watched as the blood trickled down my leg, causing me to cringe slightly. My hands were completely separated – tied away from one place of the wall to another. My eyes were glassy, and crystal blue, covered in fear. I was a blonde; the blonde was covered in pure bloodshed. My breath was ragged; when I would try to take a breath in, I would end up with a gasp. I would make a, ‘hrrrggghhh’ sound once I tried breathing out. My arms were filled with scars, as the blood ran down most of them. My breath was cold, I felt hunger run through my lungs, devouring what I felt was happiness… it was gone so long ago… I don’t know what to do, this isn’t right…
I looked at the tall man in sight, as I let myself choke in sobs. The tall man with a clearly pale face… stern expression, even though he didn’t have a face, I could feel it. He wore a tuxedo, and simply black. I felt the blood trickle down my forehead. His hands were long, and boney. He… was tall. I don’t know how tall; I don’t care. I sniffled, as chokes continued to be heard…
“WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!”
