Dark Petals on a Pale Rose - Waking ~ Part Two

Waking ~ Part Two
Friday, May. 03, 2002 ~ 3:42 p.m.

Without a sound she slipped along the street, glancing down alley ways looking for the slight glimmer of water dripping from a faucet. Her eyesight was keener than she had remembered and she found the water easily.

She stripped out of the mud stained dress and began to rinse the drying mud from her hair and her skin. She felt stronger than she ever had before, and she was sure she gained more than just her memory from the long sleep. A smile played over her lips as she thought about what things she would discover as the night wore on.

The warm blood moved through her body, restoring her almost completely. One more victim would be enough. Her pale skin already seemed to glow in the surrounding darkness as she dressed herself in the stolen clothes.

She paused only once to feed again as she made her way to the more populated area of town. Her mind was alive with memories she never dreamed she'd have, and the fear of losing them drove her on. She wanted to go home where she could sit, undisturbed, and record her past, the life she thought she had lost.

Turning a familiar corner, she saw home. The tavern she shared with the only mortal she ever cared for was alive as usual. The lights burned brightly and the sound carried on the night breeze. She stood, looking over the familiar building for a moment, then slipped around to the back.

The storm doors to the cellar hadn't been used in some time and the lock and hinges were well rusted. The weeds had grown tall, some of them even climbing over the decaying wood of the doors themselves. Somehow, that sight brought a sense of security to her. That was the entrance to the one place she always came back to.

She reached down and pried the doors open, an simple thing for her increased strength. The darkness seemed to flow out of the open doorway as she made her way down the short staircase.

She was home.

�

<~ | ~>


		To the begining Waking ~ Part Two Friday, May. 03, 2002 ~ 3:42 p.m. Without a sound she slipped along the street, glancing down alley ways looking for the slight glimmer of water dripping from a faucet. Her eyesight was keener than she had remembered and she found the water easily. She stripped out of the mud stained dress and began to rinse the drying mud from her hair and her skin. She felt stronger than she ever had before, and she was sure she gained more than just her memory from the long sleep. A smile played over her lips as she thought about what things she would discover as the night wore on. The warm blood moved through her body, restoring her almost completely. One more victim would be enough. Her pale skin already seemed to glow in the surrounding darkness as she dressed herself in the stolen clothes. She paused only once to feed again as she made her way to the more populated area of town. Her mind was alive with memories she never dreamed she'd have, and the fear of losing them drove her on. She wanted to go home where she could sit, undisturbed, and record her past, the life she thought she had lost. Turning a familiar corner, she saw home. The tavern she shared with the only mortal she ever cared for was alive as usual. The lights burned brightly and the sound carried on the night breeze. She stood, looking over the familiar building for a moment, then slipped around to the back. The storm doors to the cellar hadn't been used in some time and the lock and hinges were well rusted. The weeds had grown tall, some of them even climbing over the decaying wood of the doors themselves. Somehow, that sight brought a sense of security to her. That was the entrance to the one place she always came back to. She reached down and pried the doors open, an simple thing for her increased strength. The darkness seemed to flow out of the open doorway as she made her way down the short staircase. She was home. � <~ \| ~>