Member-only story
The Kiss of Death
She walked down the aisle with relentless hostility, making the skin of those she neared crawl with goose bumps, sending shivers down the spines of those who looked at her, deepening the queries of those who thought about her. She stopped at your row, and you could feel your body start to tense as your breath started mingling with hers. You continued to gaze out the window despite her growing presence forcing itself upon your sole entity. You clenched your fists in accordance with your pulsating jaw as you drew in your last breath, awaiting the feel of her lips on your cheek, and you could taste the bitter harshness emanating from the vacant spot in which a heart should reside. But she housed a charred memory of abuse and icy threats damned to her from above — she only dreamed of being alive. She closed her eyes as she leaned in closer to your face, peering into the deepest secrets of your soul that you strived to mask. She had no pity for the filthy grime that was bleeding from your insides out, leaking putrid horrors of others’ pasts, so she pierced the skin on your cheek with her bladed lips, sending cracks down your neck and into your heart. And just as suddenly as you were given life, she took yours. “Goodbye,” she whispered after your body slumped down the chair, thrusting your head toward hers. You saw her face for just one second before your soul detached itself from your body, and for once in your life, you felt at peace.
