Tuesday, March 3, 2009

hellllllo last years creative writing.

I could smell her. The freshest of floral scents danced its way through my nose and hung in my throat, causing a flame of desire to erupt from deep within me.
I could no longer hear her. The dull thud of a heart that typically drummed to a delicate rhythm had ceased, and her blood stood still.
I could almost see the fear in her eyes, emanating from the back of her mind.
She was not dead. Yet.
She was simply paralysed, and not with fear.
It was beyond her control.
I was in control, and I had done this once before. On a frozen cadaver.
I knew the logistics, and yet the emotions were new to me. I was almost delirious with euphoria and yet I was oddly aware of myself. Every movement was deliberate and every feeling was one to savour. Every sense was heightened, and I felt oddly invincible.
I enjoyed it.
I would make it last for as long a humanly possible.
I glanced over at the limp body. Her dark curls hung tantalisingly over her shoulder, and I had the uncontrollable urge to sweep them from her face. She was looking as angelic as the moment I laid eyes on her, even with the necessary addition of tape around her legs and arms. I was not taking the chance of the drugs wearing off half way through the deed.
I took a breath, imagining the air reaching to the depths of my lungs.
I was in control…


to be continued eventually...

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