The 13 Days of Christmas
Remembering Happy Thoughts

Flight

Well, I seem to have won first place in the Trifecta Trifextra Challenge!

{Try saying that three times real fast...}

Thank you all bunches!

 

And here is this week's entry:  333 works on this definition of

Heal:  to restore to original purity or integrity <healed of sin>

 

It seemed years till she finally pushed them off and from her; bloody clawed, teeth bared.  Fighting for the body given in this place and time though its limitations stretched her mind beyond reason and the spirit within howled to be free; lips chapped, split, crusting over. 

Oh but it had been years.  And the idea of revenge?  Too appealing to be ignored.  Various attempts were made, various methods executed; each ending in tears not her own.  Ignorant minds peeled layer by layer, revealing more blank stupidity than even she could have imagined.

And she imagined a lot.

White, dripping, rank onion odor coating raw apathy she saw how they (he?) truly stood; realizing she had the stomach for it no longer.

Pathetic… Pathetic…  Her howls echoed triumph, (though only in her mind, only to herself). Relief overwhelming as she tasted power and safety; calm settled, peace found.  She began to heal.

Restoration. Who had she wanted to be?  Who had she been before the damage?

Could she see it clear? Ah no it was hazy.  Yet there; just beyond her hand, moonlight white, red nailed.  Barely dripping.  Just there something moved which she recognized and knew it pure.

So it went.

The stronger she became the more they (he?) weakened. Steady falling till he sank within the death rattle, never to reemerge.  {How they had wept.  Only her eyes remained clear.  Hardened glass now as she vowed never to be witched blind again.} 

And the other?  Weak with age, confusion {Heartbreaking that.  Worrisome in its way.  Still….}

Though her child’s heart (Who had she wanted to be?) ached, the strength stood firm as she bit a stinging lip, fists clenched and Yes, but I remember now.  Pure intent. Moving on; unheeded. To outlive the pain and you.  

And oh look that’s just what I’ve managed to do….. 

Haunt me, if you can.  I’ll raise this red nailed white hand, casting you out. Watching your dry hollow carcass splinter, and whisk away.

 

~Lisa

 

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