[Wavering Bliss Semi-Daily Writing Update]
I stared at my reflection in the basin. Darkness clung to me, a wet, heavy presence in the silence. And still, my eyes caught the fleeting moonlight in them.
I looked like a beast caught in a hunter's path. Did that make the thoughts in my mind indicative of premeditated homicide? Or with the dagger extending from my nail beds, drawing blood with even the most gentle of touches, were my fantasies mere visions of an eventual suicide?
I dipped my hands into the water, the reflection fracturing as I rubbed them clean in the silence of my home.
[Day 2 / Aug. 25] (CW: Vague Descriptions Of Body Horror)
"Over here!" The Reverend shouted over the storm, the sea of people following the line his arm directed. The bodies clambered over one another as they rushed towards the noises that had roused them from their slumber. A child's cries were capable of moving any soul.
"Reverend, this ravine is too step to go down. How will we manage to reach the child— Reverend!"
"Just stay back, Ms. Daniels!" The man tossed his umbrella aside, flashlight clutched in his hand as he scaled the side of the ravine towards the river. Shouts of protest and concern echoed behind him, but no one dared to follow. If their reverend thought he could manage it, they'd trust him to do so.
Another wave of cries drew his attention, the reverend's head snapping in the direction of the clearing of trees towards the end of the river. He stepped into the water— any hopes of his shoes being anything other than soaked had been dashed long before their party made it out this far.
"Hold on! I'm coming to help, child!" he called out, illuminating the path before him as he stepped back out of the water onto solid ground. The trees thinned in this part of the woods, usually surrounding a few sparse flower beds when wind and rain wasn't tearing into it.
Only it wasn't the elements that disrupted those flowers. The beam of light cut through the night and shone on a patch of grass that broke apart as a small hand forced its way through the ground.
The man watched, lips barely parted in morbid curiosity and restrained horror as those tiny fingers clawed the ground. Another hand emerged, digging up the earth until a small body began to surface. And still, those pained, almost infantile cries echoed in his ears, as clear as ever.
The child pulled itself free from the confines of the dirt, arms giving out beneath them for a moment. He took a step towards them, but jerked back as the body spasmed and forced itself on all fours once more. The child coughed violently, clumps of dirt falling from their mouth. Then the blood, dripping down their chin and onto the now fallen flower petals.
They lifted their head, wide eyes staring intently but without any spirit or soul behind them. They— No. It studied the man's expression as much as he studied its form. A flash lightning caught in its eyes, and the reverend watched the reflective highlight bounce within them. Only then did he realize the crying was gone, as if the exhumation had halted an audio track that had been looping. He clenched his jaw, feet firm where he stood.
The chimes of a distant clock forced my eyes open. I stared at the ceiling, ignoring the drying blood against my nails from my healing palms. I rolled over, turning my attention to the sunlight streaming into the window.
"They can't put you back...." I murmured to myself. "Not ever again..."
I wanted to be loved. But the Reverend said things like me don't love as humans do. I didn't tell him I still dreamt in secret.
