Dark Sodden Petals
In darkness she sits. She needs to think, but her mind remains a blank canvas. Patiently she waits for a brush stroke, only one single small helpful half thought to get her started is all she needs. And yet, this simple task is too hard of an ask. Hard as she tries, even her most sincere attempts at concentration fail to produce anything. She is without options nor a guiding light.
What is the reason? For what is she so distraught? Fear. Fear of something that has not yet happened. A threat promised, but not yet fulfilled. Even so, she can feel it drawing near; a concrete certainty so firmly lodged within her mind that it would take a mighty force to free her from its harmful grasp. The creeping breath of death falls heavy upon the tiny hairs of her neck sending ripples down the length of her back. It equally tickles and terrifies. It would be little more than a cold breeze if not for the stench that follows. Rancid and yet oddly familiar. She dreads the reason for why the smell is almost recognizable.
If only there was someone or somewhere left to turn. Her eyes wander, searching for some sort of clue to aid her desperate, failing mind. Tapping upon her window arrives aggressively as if answering her plea. A visitor? At this time of night? Curiosity peaks her interest before fear can regain control as she reaches for the latch and swings the window open. Dark shadows linger amid a gentle rain. Sticking her head through the opening, she finds nothing but wet darkness leading her to further submerge herself into the deep waters of her fear.
She eventually turns back and collapses heavily onto her knees. Unsure of what she had expected, the emptiness was somehow the worst possible possibility. Filled with a solemn understanding, she adorns herself with a nervous smile as she wipes the moisture from her eyes. Fate is unwavering and unkind; a mystery no one can solve. No savior will come for her. Nor will a clear solution ever arise, not even long after her fateful end arrives.
