[open] give me a sandwich of the triangle variety

In my memory, all the small things like daggers in my mind.
In my memory, while my head bleeds the words I’ll never find,
That I always meant to say to you I can’t.

Not far from the property there is a small hole in the fence, a way leading out to the forest beyond, into the darkness of what lies beneath. They never see me crawl out, nor do I honestly think that they could care about my safety as I walk through the forest, completely unprotected from whatever danger is out there. Like anything could ever hurt the infamous Clara Hartmyre. I scowl to myself as I push aside the small leaves, making my way through the small hole, my twig-like body just hardly fitting through before I close over the opening once again with stray leaves from a nearby bush. No one ever finds me back here. Even if Esther is to wander around, even that dead girl won't spot my white dress as I slip through the forest, looking for more dead animals to add to my already-overflowing collection. A few feet away I soon spot a small bird, it's one wing folded over a red-crested chest as it eyes stay glazed open, it's gaze focused on the milky-blue sky above the both of us.

Raccoons arte definitely my most favorite animals, the way that they have the rings that curl ever so gently around beady eyes, but robins are a close second and as soon as I see this little one the ground my heart flutters in my chest, thumping with excitement as I hurriedly walk over and outstretch my hands as though to pick it up. I would never touch it with my bare hands, Florence had taught me much about never picking up dead things before properly sanitizing them. I Oh how I miss my dear older sister.. Florence was always one of my biggest role models, a woman who I aimed to be just like when I continued to grow older and develop into a woman of my own self. If only her name hadn't been picked, if only I hadn't had to have watched her die that fateful year ago. To this day my heart still throbs from the effort of thinking of her pale face and light eyes that were always so cold. Even so, I loved her for who she was, for everything that she was.

My thoughts are soon interrupted as I hear a pathetic wailing coming from possibly a couple of yards away, a dreadful moaning as if someone is in pain. The bird wills me to come closer, to stay by it's side but yet I hear the pitiful sound and it distracts me, it pulls at me as I walk away, looking for the source of where it may be coming from. I can't believe my eyes when I see the boy in the tree, sitting and looking terrified as next to him, a fallen branch has seemingly just landed on the ground. My first thought is to cut him up, then I remember that he is no animal, he is a human just like I am.

"What do you think you're doing up there?" I ask, looking up at the boy in the tree once more. He is considerably older than me though the glimmer in his eyes makes him look slightly childish, immature to be exact. And immediately I feel bad for wasting my time to find this pathetic creature, after all, I could be in the house pulling apart a bird right now and the last thing I want to do is help some stranger stuck out on a limb. So why do I stay?


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faceclaim - angela longton
words - 581
template - ella

In my memory, all the small things like daggers in my mind.
In my memory, while my head bleeds the words I’ll never find,
That I always meant to say to you I can’t.

“Why in Ripred’s name would I want to be up there?” I stare at him, my face contorting into something unrecognizable as I look up at his chiseled face, the dim sunlight just barely reflecting upon his light eyes. He is obviously scared, the branches falling all around him and his eyes darting side to side as though he is imagining himself falling to the ground with them. Foolish. “I can tell you how to get down though.” I say, turning my head to look back at the ground, much more concerned for that poor robin that I had left behind. To be realistic it was probably being devoured by a fox right now and what was it doing, I was helping some stupid common boy in a tree.

“Answer me this though,” I look at him with a mischievous smile. “If you got up so easy, how come you can’t get back down?”

I once got stuck in a tree, right outside of the house, back before the fire that ruined everything I had ever had. Mum ran out and promised to catch me in her long arms, her beautiful face and raven-like hair billowing in the wind as she smiled at me from the ground. ”I’ll catch you, my dear.” he words echoed in the wind as my identical hair swayed around my frientened face, my small teeth chattering and my white dress coming up around my legs as I desperately held onto the trunk of the tree, holding onto something that I felt would slip away in any moment.

This was before Florence died, before Esther was reincarnated as a part of a girl, before mum died, and dad became a ghost with hollows under his eyes that would never seem to go away. They all had such pretty faces, before they died at least. This thought makes me smile as I look up at the boy in the tree.

“Or you could just jump, that wouldn’t be so bad would it?” I’ve always been taught that death is a beautiful thing, an entrance into another world where you will live eternally. And a part inside of me burns in envy as I think of Florence, a ghost floating for eternity, forever in peace within herself. The jealousy I cannot contain, the more and more people I see that have died, that have passed unto the afterlife full of peace and prosperity.

Oh why can’t I join them in paradise.


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faceclaim - angela longton
words - 581
template - ella