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Camellia

A form rustled from under a dingy colorless blanket. A small sparrow hoped closer investigating the creature, before opening it's small beak and letting out a peal of notes, forming it's morning song. The sound bounced around the small apple orchard . A deathly pale skeletal hand snaked out from underneath the covers, striking the bird, fingers barely brushing it. Yet its song cute off and the bird slumped to the ground now life and colorless. The hand slipped slowly back under the covers, it looked different now though it wasn't so thin and didn't have such a deathly parlor.
The blanket slid off as the young woman stood up, her short dull black hair began to gather a healthy shine to it. She reached up into the bows of the apple tree she had taken shelter under. She plucked a ripe, shiny apple with her bare hand. It quickly shriveled and rotted in her touch. Her sage green eyes looked pitifully upon it before letting it roll out of her grasp. She reached up picking apple after apple, each began to shrivel the moment her fingers brushed it.
She moaned her despair, she looked healthy now. No longer did the presence of death linger on her skin. She glowed with life. She closed her eyes, tears seeping from under her eyelashes. She opened them again, letting her tears flow freely, streaming down her face. She caught sight of the lush grass that carpeted the ground, yet where her bare feet touched, the grass had withered and died. Her eyes tracked her path, dead spots marred the land. She screamed her fury, reaching out, her hand brushed against the trees trunk, which groaned and bent, rotting and dying right before her eyes. It's life being stolen from it by her innocent touch. She glared at it, disgusted by how full of life she felt now.
She turned away, angry with herself, the world, everything, but especially this curse. She ran, her gauzy dress fluttered and flapped behind her. Tears dried and her heart became stony as she dashed away, fleeing. Trying to out run herself. Yet she still left a trail of dead in her wake.
That's how they found her, the government. Broken, yet eyes flashing deadly, draining life from everything she touched. They told her she was just what they needed for their goals to be accomplished swiftly. She cried to them, telling them all she did was kill. To which they told her that's exactly why she was perfect.





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