Difference between revisions of "Raynie Skye"
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She awoke in a cold sweat. Every night the same dream. Every damned night, for weeks now. Her mother eyes stared at her brother. Her gaunt face, pale and creped. She was dying from the gangrenous wound that caused sepsis in her blood stream. Her voice quiet and weak as she looked at the tanned Miqo’te. “Promise me, you’ll look after your sister.” She croaked. The male simply nodded, the matted hair upon his crown bounced as he did so. Ebe sat in the corner, watching this exchange. She clutched the small hand sewn doll her mother had made for her on her last name day. Her eyes swollen and red from all the tears, but the well had seem to run dry at this point. Z’wihle, her brother cast a glare in her direction, followed by a sneer curling on his lips. He hated her, her innocence, her weakness, everything she represented to him. Ebe felt tiny under the weight of the gaze, she clutched the doll tight to her chest, and drew her knees in close, hugging them. “Momma…” she whispered her voice quiet, inaudible, as the tears carved valleys down her cheeks, each one stinging her eyes. She knew what this meant, even though, at the time the whole gravity of the situation was not entirely to her understanding. She stared at a small bug crawling along the wall of the small cottage room, wishing they could trade places. | She awoke in a cold sweat. Every night the same dream. Every damned night, for weeks now. Her mother eyes stared at her brother. Her gaunt face, pale and creped. She was dying from the gangrenous wound that caused sepsis in her blood stream. Her voice quiet and weak as she looked at the tanned Miqo’te. “Promise me, you’ll look after your sister.” She croaked. The male simply nodded, the matted hair upon his crown bounced as he did so. Ebe sat in the corner, watching this exchange. She clutched the small hand sewn doll her mother had made for her on her last name day. Her eyes swollen and red from all the tears, but the well had seem to run dry at this point. Z’wihle, her brother cast a glare in her direction, followed by a sneer curling on his lips. He hated her, her innocence, her weakness, everything she represented to him. Ebe felt tiny under the weight of the gaze, she clutched the doll tight to her chest, and drew her knees in close, hugging them. “Momma…” she whispered her voice quiet, inaudible, as the tears carved valleys down her cheeks, each one stinging her eyes. She knew what this meant, even though, at the time the whole gravity of the situation was not entirely to her understanding. She stared at a small bug crawling along the wall of the small cottage room, wishing they could trade places. | ||
Revision as of 15:49, 13 January 2017
Rest In Peace?
She awoke in a cold sweat. Every night the same dream. Every damned night, for weeks now. Her mother eyes stared at her brother. Her gaunt face, pale and creped. She was dying from the gangrenous wound that caused sepsis in her blood stream. Her voice quiet and weak as she looked at the tanned Miqo’te. “Promise me, you’ll look after your sister.” She croaked. The male simply nodded, the matted hair upon his crown bounced as he did so. Ebe sat in the corner, watching this exchange. She clutched the small hand sewn doll her mother had made for her on her last name day. Her eyes swollen and red from all the tears, but the well had seem to run dry at this point. Z’wihle, her brother cast a glare in her direction, followed by a sneer curling on his lips. He hated her, her innocence, her weakness, everything she represented to him. Ebe felt tiny under the weight of the gaze, she clutched the doll tight to her chest, and drew her knees in close, hugging them. “Momma…” she whispered her voice quiet, inaudible, as the tears carved valleys down her cheeks, each one stinging her eyes. She knew what this meant, even though, at the time the whole gravity of the situation was not entirely to her understanding. She stared at a small bug crawling along the wall of the small cottage room, wishing they could trade places.
