A lil something I was Working On( no tittle )
Message:
I know what I am, I knew my life before, and I will know how I die. My name is Spirit; I live in a small house on the outskirts of Tampa, Florida. After I was born my parents put me on a rocket and sent me to earth. I understand why, I mean after all great heroes must follow where their destiny leads them… right?
ᵜᵜᵜ
I ran through the stone arch way, fear coursing through my whole body. I grabbed onto a rock but my sweaty hands slipped off. I kept running I had to get away; I can’t die now, not this way. I looked up at the darkening sky. Rome would’ve been such a lovely place if I wasn’t running for my life. Oh the beauty of the old ancient ruins of Rome, at least I get to die here… that’s the optimistic side. The moons light showed on my face, its night now. I’ve been running and hiding for the past three hours. It doesn’t look like I’m going to get out of here ok. I took a deep breath in, I saw a little corner, shelter…hidden, maybe I could rest there. Once I’m in the cramped little square space I let out a sigh and can’t help let the tears pour out my eyes. The warm salty tears ran down my dirty face leaving behind a trail where the tear use to be.
I closed my eyes and tried to remember the happiest moment in my life… for comfort. I was seven years old the day I went to the pet store with my adopted dad, we looked at puppies and the lady that worked their even let us play with them. I came across this little tea cup poodle, the fur a warm milky chocolate color and its eyes big and brown. I remember I ran my fingers over its little fragile body, the fur so silky soft. It fit in my two hands cupped together; its little soft pink tongue licked my thumb. My dad said, you really like it sweetie? I shook my head real hard. He looked to the attendant and said we’ll take this little girl. After that we went out for ice cream. I remember I decided to name my puppy Cookie, because her big brown warm, sweet, inviting eyes reminded me of chocolate chip cookies. What can I say, I was seven. The memory played like a movie in my head, but I was interrupted buy the sound of a man’s voice.
“Good night little Spirit.” He whispered into my ear as he gripped my neck sealing any air out my body, the man pulled me out my little space. My hands tried to pull his tight hold on my throat but his hands didn’t budge. Now I was gasping for air, he lifted me off my feet and as if I were a little stone he threw me against a rock statue of a roman lady. Since it was already on edge of falling to pieces due to erosion, when I slammed into the statue it tumbled down broken in half, the air was knocked out of my lungs. I gasped, breathing in air contaminated with dust from the old statue. I looked up at my killer, his tall dark figure standing in front of me. He crouched and got close to my face, I could see he illuminating green eyes in the night.
“Quite a pity. Really. If only you hadn’t tried to gain eternal life.”
He grabbed my neck and picked me up off my feet, I grabbed at his hand, my throat hurt. I couldn’t breathe, my eyes blurred with tears. The depraved man slammed me into a stone wall, hands still fastened to my neck. Wordlessly, his grip got tighter and tighter, time slowed down as I lived my last moments. I stopped fighting back. But I never got a flash back… like all the stories say you will right before you die. A tear escaped my left eye, my body went limp and the world around me faded away.
~moi la sérénité