Moira Vitrella Chief Editor
     member is offline
![[avatar]](http://i240.photobucket.com/albums/ff128/moiravitrella/All%20Things%20Twilight/twilight8.gif)
A writer is simply a painter that uses a pen instead of a brush.
Joined: Dec 2007 Posts: 32 Karma: 0 |  | Silent Game « Thread Started on Mar 2, 2008, 12:35am » | |
A steady dripping slowly brought her back to awareness. Though she distinctly remembered falling asleep in her own soft, warm bed, all that could be felt at hte moment was cold and unwelcoming concrete. She moved her hand slowly, feeling the floor unbelievingly. Where was she? Had she sleepwalked to her basement and curled up for a little rest on cool ground?
Disoriented and slightly unnerved, she opened her eyes to blackness. Nothing was visible i the space she currently occupied. The old childhood fear of the dark crept up on her and made her sweat, the moisture beading on her forehead. The black pressed in on her, smothering and sticking like toxic ooze from a cheesy horror film.
A rat scurried in a far corner of the room and she jumped, a small cry sounding in her throat. But it did not go any further. Though she attempted once more in confusion to open her mouth with some sort of sound, her lips would not part. It was as though they had been glued shut.
Trembling with fear of the unknown, but soon to be discovered, she reached hesitantly for her lips. Her fingers moved across them as her eyes widened futilely against the horror of what she felt.
Not glue.
Thread.
|
|
|