Frozen
It was another frosty night. The sounds of the city were slowly dying away as people went to their warm homes to sleep and prepare for the upcoming day. The cold seems to sharpen all the sounds. Making them as crisp as ice. No one should be out in this. But Ia didn't care. She laid stretch out on one of the oldest graves in the cemetary. The light of most the stars were washed out by the ambiant glow of the city, yet some managed to pierce through. Three hours had passes sense she came here. Not one had she move. Now all the blood as froze in her veins, freezing the muscles to the bone. Every now and then she would blink. Not out of reflex, but to scrape off the ice that was obsquring her view of the stars. Stiffly her lung exhaled.
They say that your breath in the winter shows your life force. Which is connected with having a spirit. Some say that your spirit and soul are the same.
She took in another stiff breath and let it go. Nothing showed.
Maybe we truly are souless beings. Maybe there is nothing after this life for us but a dark abyss. I wonder if its as lonely as it is now.
She took in another breath. No heat. Only the frost of a corpse. Her fingers made a slight crackling sound as she shifted them. The sounds of approaching food steps came upon her. It was typical punks. Probably out testing urban ghost stories.
"Holy shit! Is that a dead body?" Came a young girls voice.
"I think it is." A boy's voice followed. Two bundled faces came into view. Yup, punks. A pair of hot fingers felt around Ia's neck for a pulse.
"Oh my god, she really is dead! What do we do?"
"Call the police, duh." The two lingered around debaiting on what to say to make sure it didn't sound like they commited a murder.
Silly mortals. So careless. So niaeeve.
A plan was decided as they turned to go find a pay phone. Ia simply slipped out of their minds. Her body felt like a cold brick of lead as she sat up and followed them. Tracing their same footsteps so they wouldn't be confused on their way back. They contemplaited on her possible causes of death and so on and so fourth. The group reached the street where her tracks wouldn't be traced.
Your getting soft.
Your just jelous that you didn't get to play.
Think of their warmth.
You know how bad the blood burns in a frozen body.
But you like the feeling.
Ia wasn't going to respond to that but stood for a bit, watching the couple wander down the street. Another pair that lived to see another sunrise and didn't realise how close to death they came and didn't ever know it. Another ghost stories is born. Another night waisted. Ia slipped down the nearest manhole to head home and thaw out in a hot shower. Perhaps the blood won't burn as much in the morning.
They say that your breath in the winter shows your life force. Which is connected with having a spirit. Some say that your spirit and soul are the same.
She took in another stiff breath and let it go. Nothing showed.
Maybe we truly are souless beings. Maybe there is nothing after this life for us but a dark abyss. I wonder if its as lonely as it is now.
She took in another breath. No heat. Only the frost of a corpse. Her fingers made a slight crackling sound as she shifted them. The sounds of approaching food steps came upon her. It was typical punks. Probably out testing urban ghost stories.
"Holy shit! Is that a dead body?" Came a young girls voice.
"I think it is." A boy's voice followed. Two bundled faces came into view. Yup, punks. A pair of hot fingers felt around Ia's neck for a pulse.
"Oh my god, she really is dead! What do we do?"
"Call the police, duh." The two lingered around debaiting on what to say to make sure it didn't sound like they commited a murder.
Silly mortals. So careless. So niaeeve.
A plan was decided as they turned to go find a pay phone. Ia simply slipped out of their minds. Her body felt like a cold brick of lead as she sat up and followed them. Tracing their same footsteps so they wouldn't be confused on their way back. They contemplaited on her possible causes of death and so on and so fourth. The group reached the street where her tracks wouldn't be traced.
Your getting soft.
Your just jelous that you didn't get to play.
Think of their warmth.
You know how bad the blood burns in a frozen body.
But you like the feeling.
Ia wasn't going to respond to that but stood for a bit, watching the couple wander down the street. Another pair that lived to see another sunrise and didn't realise how close to death they came and didn't ever know it. Another ghost stories is born. Another night waisted. Ia slipped down the nearest manhole to head home and thaw out in a hot shower. Perhaps the blood won't burn as much in the morning.