I was confused, as confused as the birds as they realised there eggs had been stolen by greedy predators. As heartbroken as the willow as it weeps it leaves in autumn. My body quivered, against the cold, against the feelings that surged through me with searing hot rivulets. A spike here, right through my healing ribcage. My lungs expelled, attempting to gasp for a lungful of air, but failed and I stumbled to my knees, just short of the vast tree in the heart of the Gates. I scuffed them against there ground, mud marred my chocolate frame as I rolled to my side, my swollen barrel rising and falling, rising and falling.
What was happening? Was I dying? Was this what those dreams were warning me about? the darkness that slipped my mind, the shadows encasing me in dark, dark, darkness. Was it predicting that my heart would give out, right here, my lungs would just… stop. The thought felt like an arrow, slipping from my ind and aiming straight for my torn and broken little heart.
It struck it’s mark, right then and I was reminded by the iron steed; his steely body cold, like winter against me. the uncomfortable pain that shot through me, another reminder roof what had happened. I had been deflowered, taken like some broken little thing and tossed aside. Filled with a growing life. Oh, I had been so foolish, too broken to even see that this would be the end result. I quivered, my eyes wide, the threat of tears a promise as the hot saline trickled from the corners and fell down my cheeks. I called, I called multiple times. I was frightened, far more frightened of this than of the shadows that followed me at night, than the monster that lurked inside of my head. I was far more scared of the pain on the inside, to not notice that my thrashing at opened old wounds. Primarily the large strip along my ribcage. It blossomed like a red rose, the crimson burgundy against my brown coat.
My voice felt strained, captive in my throat and wilful in it’s escape. Even to my own ears, it sounded like a death call. A vulture overhead, cawing for friends to come and enjoy the meal. I pushed my head into the spring grass, thrashing my hinds, kicking at the darkness that I felt riding my heels. Oh. they were after the product inside of me. The thing, the life. they wanted it as much as they wanted me. It broke me, as much as the pain. The feeling of regret, the feeling of hopelessness. I called again, a ragged cry, piercing and wrought. My hinds quivered, pulsed against the surge as the life slipped from me, drained my eyes, my heart raging, threatening to leap from it’s ribbed cage. Oh, the pain, the pain was far more than the blood, than the tearing and shredding of flesh. I felt like my insides were fire, and I was burning alive.
the pain then ceased, but not without one final whinny, that very cry had spurred the life along and it slipped from me with ease, falling in a puddle of claret and mess. I lay my head, against the cool ground. My body foamy white with sweat, my lungs heaving with breath. It took me minutes to turn my head and see the bundle that lay motionless. My hollow grey eyes steeled themselves, as I pulled my weary frame to it’s feet. Lowering my muzzle I pressed it against the small form. Recoiling back in the horror of watching as it’s side rose and fell, ever so slowly. I took a few steps back and watched as the child shifted, shallow breaths stolen, it’s little heart quivering beneath it’s new flesh. I stepped back even further, lowered my muzzle to the ground. I was a mess of blood tendrils, a newly bleeding side and sweat marred me. the cold wind took my tresses and coiled them about my face. My eyes met the bundle and I watched, shivering, ’I.. I broke you. Reuen ruined again…’
Reuen
the little ruined girl
resident of the gates |
