Neikla had been running for so long that she thought she might reach the ends of the earth. Certainly it seemed that way when the ground fell out before her, dropping away into a never ending precipices of sky. There was only one way to do now. How fitting it seemed. Down.
Standing on the edge, arms reaching outwards as if she might jump, leaning to fly in a moments notice. An upwards draft caressed her skin, sending plums of gossamer locks floating in ghostly waves of white. Looking into the distance there seemed to be nothing. Just endless colours twisting and turning until they were just as confused as she was.
'Tell me why....?" Her voice left her lips, but she never heard it's sound, carried away by the wind it was swallowed into the howling abyss. Light was beginning to stream through the darkness, like a dog chasing it's tail it broke through in circles, twisting and bending through the strangle hold of night to paint the sky anew.
No where to go but down. So down it was. Stepping from the edge she began to slide. Sure-step and skilled foot-working dance of nimble design. Like a mountain goat she jumped from crevasse to ledge and back, working her way down with alternating rhythm. The memory of the night still played heavy in her mind, clinging to her heart like a weed. Silas had given her what she wanted, partly. Pain, she had wanted pain, but he'd given her the wrong kind. Physical pain had been her calling. Like a bandage it masked the nagging demons that riddled away at her soul, muted them long enough that she could find peace; if only for a short while. No, Silas had not given her what she wanted. Angered as she was, hurt, betrayed. All was lost, all had been taken away yet again. All was lost. Such thoughts of hopelessness led to careless footing. Lose shale, a miss step and the ground was falling away beneath her. Darkness came even as the sun broke through the night.
Slowly the fog lifted, clearing from her mind. Eyes flittered open. Something familiar, a numbness. She tried to move, something was holding her arm. Darkness had rained down again, the day had passed. She had fallen, caught on a ledge, her right arm wedge between the outcrop and what seemed to be a large, fallen slab. Pinched just above her wrist, there came a sickness as she came to realize she couldn't feel her hand. Try as she might, like sending communications to a dead line, there was nothing. Panic settled in waves, washing over her mind and soul like a heavy blanket. Shifting, she tried to push the slab, side it, lift it. Nothing. It didn't move. By the time she tried the sun was high over head, screaming down an angry eye of displeasure. Try and try as she might, she had not the strength to the slab, her hand firmly wedged. Laughter erupted from her. It echoed, bouncing off the rock-face to slap her back in the face before turning to a scream and then ending in tears. Sleep came. Fitful and filled with darknes.
No where to go but down. So down it was. Stepping from the edge she began to slide. Sure-step and skilled foot-working dance of nimble design. Like a mountain goat she jumped from crevasse to ledge and back, working her way down with alternating rhythm. The memory of the night still played heavy in her mind, clinging to her heart like a weed. Silas had given her what she wanted, partly. Pain, she had wanted pain, but he'd given her the wrong kind. Physical pain had been her calling. Like a bandage it masked the nagging demons that riddled away at her soul, muted them long enough that she could find peace; if only for a short while. No, Silas had not given her what she wanted. Angered as she was, hurt, betrayed. All was lost, all had been taken away yet again. All was lost. Such thoughts of hopelessness led to careless footing. Lose shale, a miss step and the ground was falling away beneath her. Darkness came even as the sun broke through the night.
Slowly the fog lifted, clearing from her mind. Eyes flittered open. Something familiar, a numbness. She tried to move, something was holding her arm. Darkness had rained down again, the day had passed. She had fallen, caught on a ledge, her right arm wedge between the outcrop and what seemed to be a large, fallen slab. Pinched just above her wrist, there came a sickness as she came to realize she couldn't feel her hand. Try as she might, like sending communications to a dead line, there was nothing. Panic settled in waves, washing over her mind and soul like a heavy blanket. Shifting, she tried to push the slab, side it, lift it. Nothing. It didn't move. By the time she tried the sun was high over head, screaming down an angry eye of displeasure. Try and try as she might, she had not the strength to the slab, her hand firmly wedged. Laughter erupted from her. It echoed, bouncing off the rock-face to slap her back in the face before turning to a scream and then ending in tears. Sleep came. Fitful and filled with darknes.