Send ‘Flashback’ for a scenario of my muses past {CLOSED}>>>>>>>>>> 13
The sky is a far away photograph thats fraying at the edges, all dark blue and black. Her fingers are red and shaking, one hand pressed to the jagged hole against her ribs and the other curled in once - brown curls.
The world is fading and distantly, it comes to her. She is dying. They are all dying, and she realises that in the silence of the world ending she cannot hear their breathing. They were all beside her, she knows, there is a weight on her legs that could be their corpses or could be Death coming to take her home.
In the moments when her eyes slid closed she grieves for them, the sadness hurts more than her failing body. The coldness of death is welcome, but -
There are hands on her skin, burning as bright as the sun once had. She wants to scream, but there is no breath in her lungs to breathe. Nobody had ever said death would hurt like this, like there are stars climbing inside her skin to live amongst her blood. There are whispers, there are hands, this is not death, this is not -
Hello, Saeyun. We have a job for you.