Scratchy Nails Trace along the wooden walls.
Searing pain etched along the aging memories.
Claws run across the old forged instrument.
One note is played.
A long drawn out note.
The sound echoes off the walls.
I shudder.
Thinking back to trying to run away from all this.
Now I'm here reminiscing and wishing I hadn't heard the sound.
Of the old regret lingering in my ears.
Mingling with every thought and emotion.
My fists tighten as shadows cast across the wall coming toward me.
Stockingly getting bigger than me.
Mocking me.
Another note is played and I feel the dust being inhaled inside of me.
Choking the life out of me.
I hear the ancient laugh coated with angst and hate.
Reaching out towards me with hands like the talons of a bird.
I inhale a sob and look through watery eyes at my bloodied hands.
The hands that I had just used to escape.
It trickles down my arm like the tears that run down my face.
I can feel the inside of my hand shaking with pain.
The bones crushing together.
But I can't make a sound. I can't move.
I can't even breathe.
She calls my name, beckons me to her.
I don't come. I sit still shaking on the inside.
Scared to look at the outgrown silohouette cast against the wall.
I feel the floor creak beside me.
The door is starting to move. Starting to shake with vengeance from the other side.
I look up, one tear falling from my face.
The light coming in streaks like rays from sunshine I used to know.
A hand reaches towards me.
Then everything turns black.
