In my dream, I was smaller than I am now, almost like I was a six year old. I wore a white and yellow dress and I was in an old wooden building. There was a tall chair behind me and I wasn't alone in the building. There were four or five other men. Three of them were chasing me around the room, taunting me and scarring me. As I ran around the room trying to get away from them, their leader who had long black hair and dressed finely, took hold of my arm and pulled me behind him in a manner of protection.
"That's enough now. No need to scare the poor child. She's been through enough as it is." The other men looked almost mad but shrugged and stopped. I knew something was off, but I felt safe and comfortable around the man. He turned to me and picked me up and set me down in the chair. He then placed his hands on my shoulders and looked me dead in the eye and I felt like I was under a spell.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked and I nodded, unable to speak. Behind him on a table sat a box with a dagger in it. He took the dagger in his hand and kept his gaze locked onto mine. I felt him place the tip of the dagger against my stomach and I wasn't scared.
"An old life for a new life." He said and pushed the dagger easily into my stomach. As he did he leaned forward and kissed me on the lips while driving the weapon through me. It didn't hurt, but it felt weird. I could feel it in me, and as I saw still with the dagger in my stomach, he drew one hand back and drew his finger tip alone one of the blade edges and cut himself. He then put his bloody finger on my lips and smiled while watching me.
"You'll be safe soon." He said and I took his finger into my mouth and drank the blood from the cut. My body began to shake and I felt like I was going to be sick. But then I felt a burning sensation in my chest and thought I was going to die, but he kept his hands on me and told me I was okay, that I was going to be safe and that I was strong.
After that I woke up.
 Commie Fanny Whammer · Mon Sep 29, 2008 @ 08:42pm · 0 Comments |
