Leslie Shivers

August 12, 2008
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Leslie huddles in the corner. Blanket covering her as she shivers. Dark is the sky and cold is the fog swirling around her ankles. She shakes under the blanket, feeling the scratchy material against her arm. Every second, every minute. She cries. She cries praying for mercy that might save her from this never ending version of hell that followed her in each loved one’s home from the beginning. The beginning of the pain which left no physical mark, but if it could she would be black and blue. Black and blue like the sea, the only safe spot in the entire world.
Seagulls scream and the sea roars, but not loud enough to drown out Leslie's fears. They had appeared. Smoke, heat, crackling, and red. Red that engulfed her in scorching tenderness. Crackling and snapping filled her ears until she could hear no more but the twisted laughter being emitted from the source of her fears. She tasted the salt of her tears as they came closer until bright lights blot out her vision and she is being dragged into a different place.

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