Midnight falls and my cloak drags the wet pavement; the moon taunts its bright light upon me, as I lift my silver dagger in a motion to create a sanguinary scene.
Stopped still in my tracks, she walked into my pathway of macabre. Wearing a rather putrid color of red.
She glanced at me with naive eyes; oblivious to me, I had been standing there unable to move.
She began passing me slowly and my eyes followed her every movement; this is rather shocking to myself.
Sub-consciously I had meant to kill her and hate her with all my might.
This was something unexpected; the enigma of this feeling empowered my every sense, to an extent that I felt like a naive young boy experiencing this for the first time.
Is this sensation of a million fluttering butterflies normal? It doesn't feel very enchanting; felt like it made your guts crumble no matter how hard you tried to suppress it.
She had disappeared before I could even utter a single word; I felt defeated.
I had no idea what my initial mission had been.
I wondered with my every being as to where she could have gone; a fog so thick that it covered my very existence.
Have I become everything I hate? I'm facing the most deceiving onus to ever behold man.
As I clutch my dagger and walk away, the moon taunts my cloaked existence; penetrating through the through the vials of my cowardice.
HER:
It must have been a little after midnight when I had left the family tavern.
My mother had inertly warned me to wear her rather horrid red dress prior to the big "bash" at the tavern.
Telling you frankly, it was the most tedious celebration ever.
As I took my habitual path to head home; I came across a rather strange looking man, it was as if he was frozen in time.
He was holding a silver dagger, the moon shone brightly upon it; its gleam is what drew me to his dark shadow.
I hurried home; thinking of my mothers' excoriation upon arriving home tardily.
I was still quite numb at the sight of that mysterious man I had run upon earlier--Why was he standing outside the family tavern?
He seemed to have come across a phantasmal presence; to an extent where, I felt that visual enervation he portrayed.
I climbed up the grape vines protruding from the small window that overlooked the obsolete city, in order to avoid a confrontation with my mother.
Using the formal entrance would only respite my efforts to doze off into the night.
