The Victim

(Photo Credit: CC, http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File%3ARage.jpg)

Written on: 10/13/12

The cold is bitter,
Unrelenting;
It's teeth rip and tear at my flesh.
I have, no escape.
There is, no peace,
Within this existence.
The walls of my mind have frozen over,
All that's left, is for that sharp wind,
To shatter my mind. Keleidoscopadigm.

Similarly, as with everything else.
To become the dust,
Which, with the wind,
Becomes glass, and it cuts,
Buries itself within my skin.
Like the tortured screams
Crying from within.
If only such a weapon,
Could be turned against
All the vicious fools
Whose enmity I posses,
But I have none,
No tool, nowhere to run
I have but to endure,
Carry each scar like a gem encrusted necklace.

I have that curse,
It is mine to wear,
I would have it no other way,
But I would if it were there.
Such a contradiction does not exist,
But it exists within me, none the less.

I say this with certainty
For one reason only,
Those fools,
Who bear me such enmity,
Would not do such,
If they lived as I must.
As target, for their amusement.
And a stool, to stand upon.
Like the corner stones of old,
I am the foundation for their home,
A tower of torture, and pain, which deems;
I am the victim,
Hear my scream!

Vignette - Darcy

(Photo Credit: CC, http://bewareitbites.deviantart.com/art/SCREAM-349114230)

     There was a bustling, a rustle, a sharp movement and then a scream. An earsplitting scream, the kind that sends a shiver running through your veins.

  Darcy shifted her eyes, scanning for the noise beyond all of the hustle and bustle of the crowd. Pushing her way through the mass of sweaty, smelly bodies; shifting her weight and occasionally elbowing someone in the gut or stepping on a foot as she rushed forward. Forcing each step as her heartbeat quickened, feeling each thump as a hammer against her insides.

The light of the sky retreated behind the jealous clouds, and echoed the feelings of dread which had already begun to rise up within her. The importance of time weighed down on her with increasing intensity.

Looking around catching glimpses of small packs separated from the larger group. Shifting through the open spaces between the out-liers; her feet began to match the speed of her racing heart. Then she heard it again, just as she reached an open expanse past the ignorant people, that terrible scream. Passing the red bricks of the desolate town, she jammed the soles of her feet down, down, down.

First the right, then the left in ever increasing rapid movements, passing alley-ways and store-fronts alike. The immovable concrete below her felt like an urging hand carrying her to the destination, which until only a moment ago, she didn't know existed. When finally, out of the corner of her eye she discovered the horror which matched that horrible noise.

"Ahhhhh, can you believe it? They chose me! I never thought it would happen, but I always hoped it would. Oh, Darcy, " Veronica said in false sympathy, "They picked me, I thought for sure it would have been you, you always were the favorite, I mean obviously I could never have hoped to live up to your example, but they picked me, couldn't you just die of shock?"

"Yes." was all Darcy could say before falling down, never to get up again.