Grimm Pov
Strange, I feel ..weak.
I feel like the room is spinning, Kate and Samantha are arguing about something, but it all seems so far away. And the distance between us seem to be growing larger and larger every second, my vision distorts and elongates as if I'm in a bizarre stretched out world. Their voices grow softer and I can't make anything out any more. My legs seem to be unable to hold the weight of my body and they shake in protest, my arms collapse under the weight of the books and they fall down around me with a large responding thud.
I Feel myself fall, legs finally giving way. The next feeling I have is weightless. The seconds are stretched out, my perception of time distorting so much that my fall is in slow motion. I watch the floor rise up, closer and closer , inching its way towards me as it reaches up to meet my collapsing body.
Then , after what seems like eternity in free-fall ,I hit the floor, but I'm gone before my body can tell me about the pain of the impact and I'm somewhere else.
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I'm here again, in the white void, laying on my back. Things have changed though, calling it a white void would seem to be rather unfair, I'm not floating like I was when I first got here there is a surface where I lie. Ripples like raindrops on a still body of water ,pan outwards from my body. The ground before me reflects a sky like a huge mirror casting images of the moving sky. A pale blue hue ,so light it's almost as if it were white, with clouds strewn about the moving canvas . but my eyes are not stolen by this, not moved by this picturesque scene .
Because my eyes stared forward onto.. a person?
A woman. A woman with snow white skin, so pale was it that I couldn’t believe it belonged to a living person, it was as if she was not of this earth, an otherworldly being. Her face was suspended before mine , Her silver hair draped over her shoulder obscuring my view of the sky. Her brilliantly bright sapphire eyes shone through in stark contrast to her skin, adding to the feeling she was not , could not be human.
Her face was close, too close, I could make out every detail, the curve of her cheeks, the soft tinge of pink on her lips, the dimple below her left eye, the only blemish on her other-wise flawless face
She was beautiful, any less of a word would do her no justice. And even that word would only barely convey enough meaning. There are not many things that would render me speechless, I've seen terrible and ugly things and lived through it, but in this instance I was well and truly , breathless…
Why?
Her beauty ? No, not that.
She is beautiful yes, her unearthly beauty could not be questioned. But there are many kinds of beauty in this world. The kind in which a total stranger would help another. Where a person would embrace another and dry their tears. How a person could bare their soul in front of another and they would not look away. There are many kinds of beauty in this world that I've come to now recently. No. It was not her beauty that caused me to become breathless, not close proximity of our faces, not the flawless glow of her eyes.
It was her thin, delicate hands. That were clasped tightly , around my throat.
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The pressure around my neck is getting stronger, her face twists up in effort. It gets harder and harder to breathe as she slowly chokes the life out of me. I don’t panic though, the way I did when my father straggled me. I don’t know why but I don’t feel the same fear or anger but something…different.
I begin to organise my thoughts and I think:
My body is weak from malnutrition and years of neglect . I'm overall thinner than what I assume is normal for children my age, my weight should also be less than it should be for other kids. All my attributes are weaker than they should be, then why is this woman who is older than me be having so much difficulty in strangling me?
Point she's weak. Her arms are thin, a lot thinner than I think is normal for adults, going by the adult women I've seen so far, though her clothing consist of Tattered rags I can't make out any body shape i can't tell how well her muscles are developed or undeveloped for that matter . But she seems very weak. Much more than it should be for a woman of her stature.
She out of breath, she's weak but her grip is a vice I can't break out of it with my current strength, no point in trying futility and wasting precious seconds, her arms are stretch out but her face is near mine. Though she is weak, she is stronger than me considerably, fighting her in term of strength will end badly for me. I look at her neck, close enough within reach , my arms can strike out. I don’t know if she's human or not but I can tell by her haggard breath she needs oxygen to some extent.
A swift blow to the neck will collapse her windpipe and obstruct airflow , causing massive pain in the process, she will automatically recall her hands to protect further damage to her neck. I can't let her recover from this, I will need to disable her eyes, using the nails on my fingers.
While she blinded, out of breath, bleeding and in pain I will have a greater advantage over her. It won't be a fight from then on.
My eyes harden and I begin to execute my plan my hand shoots out and then stops. As I begin to notice something that really causes me to falter in thought and in body. My hand reach out to her face and my thumb slowly wipes the skin surrounding her eye. She's startled at my touch unable to understand, her wet sapphire eyes grow wider and her vice like grip loosens.
I feel it her pain, her sorrow..so familiar . Like I'm looking in a mirror, the twisted face of grief I'd only ever showed one person. Myself.
I've really only ever cried like that for one reason.
So I ask her barely managing it , though her strength has gone slack my voice comes out weak. But we are so close there is no doubt in my mind she'd here it. I ask
"Why are you crying?"
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turns out im an idiot(what else is new?) i put the comedy on the tag with this story, the only thing funny here is how little the author knows about's about the plot of his own story. :noei: