One shot - Alone, but together.

Wailing, weeping, crying. The sounds of pure expression and grief of ones emotions, reverberates a soul, traveling, echoing, the space around. Died in a beautiful orange of dawn, the fresh blue sky turns comforting like a cosy home.

Lightly streaking across the bare grounds, littered with half broken, ragged strands of grass. Tread on by various footsteps, the grass blend with the Earth and merged into one ground.

She continues wailing, the young, young sound of a child's cries, with a cheek flooded with rain like tears, large eyes where the light wavers in all pureness, like it became the gems of the dawning sky. Her small bare feet trudging on the horizon where the half slumbering sun split in half. And both her body and the grounds turned into a silhouette.

Blood as red as it can be, like the fruits of various berries were smeared on her cheek, drizzled on her hair and drenched her white, white, white dress. In her hanging hand, grabbing by the hair was a head - of a mans, hair as brown as can be scruffy like the uncared weeds, stiff, but brown. In her hand, hanging by her side, his cleanly severed neck, redness dripped from the cut.

Stolen novel; please report.

Drip drop

Drip drop

Forming a trail behind on the path, beside the small footprints of the girls. Traveling together.

Facing the sky, in blood and mud, the sound releasing from her wide open mouth was mere wailing. Crying like her heart depends on it. Yet here, no matter how loud, nobody hears the heart-wrenching cries, nobody, not even the head in her hand, despite his ears being so seemingly close.

The beautiful dawning sky, like a haze, like a painting, everyday, it will dawn in such a way. The comforting orange, ushering in a newly born day.

On the horizon, she keeps trudging, in her small bare feet, her buckling legs. Where neither the ground nor herself gave in.

Her cheeks glowering against the rising sun, an innocent cry of grief. Like an angel fallen onto earth. Her white white....drench in red...red.

With blood, with a head.

With mud, with her dress.

With tears, with the sun.

She traveled along the horizon, alone but together.

Leaving two trails behind. Proving they existed.