Prose #1 – Marionette

Marionette

Ghost-like hands enclose around her neck
His smile forever engraved into her mind—
And as his calloused fingers begin to tighten
A soft whimper escapes her lips.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He whispers.

“I’m not like the others.”

~

A creak echoes the room, followed by a soft click of the door. The figure circles around her, observing her chest rise and fall in a myogenic manner. Her petite body rests insouciantly against a thin white mattress. The figure pauses just beside her, crouching down with a refined composure.

He sits in silent fascination. His hand reaches for her, slowly tracing his fingers lightly against her jawline. His action causes her to stir. Her eyes open lethargically. As she turns her head towards her intruder, his alluring features catches her in a daze. Within seconds, her orbs light up in recognition.

Her lips part to speak. “You’re back.”

“I promised.” He responds with ease.

It was all she needed. His fingers stop at her chin, caressing it tenderly with his thumb. He lowers his head till they are barely centimeters apart. He stares into her eyes—mesmerized.

She smiles before he goes deeper, and induces her with seeds of morning glory.

~

He tilted his head ever so slightly, as she stares past his shoulders. He left the door open. He makes no keen attempt to follow her gaze. She shifted her weight, propping herself up. Wisps of hair dance as strands fall gently off her shoulders.

He blinks at her with a masked expression. He sits at the foot of the mattress, mindlessly tapping his fingers against her ankle. Every touch nudged her a little closer to reality.

“You seem different.”

He paused at her accusation—her confrontation. Her eyes bore back onto his, searching for a coated response.

Nothing.

He lounged at her before she realized, and with no air to breathe, he loomed over her into oblivion.

…She bleeds once more

~

Her fingers clasp loose fitted sheets. The weight of his arm was slung over her. Letting out raspy breaths, his feather-like strokes traced around her stomach.

Her body tenses as he began to shadow upwards; past structures that painted her vermillion—carnal shame. As he reaches the base of her throat, an unforeseeable pressure clawed at her skin.

A scream. A push. A fight.

Her body jolts in fervent panic, tearing through intangible fears. She grabs onto something, but it felt naught. His warmth lingers, though none she could yield. Frostbitten.

The door was left open.

Time—slowly ticking away.

~

The door is closed.

~

A creak echoes the room, followed by a soft click of the door. The figure circles around her, observing her chest rise and fall in a calculative manner. Her petite body rests conscientiously against a thin white mattress. The figure pauses just besides her, and lingers.

Her hollow orbs shifts to her intruder. Empty. She stares at his obscure features. A smile creeps onto her lips, as he crouches down.

“You’re back.”

~

Nails graze against skin
Scorching marks left in fervor
He takes it all—just before she shatters
A soft whimper escapes her lips.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He whispers.

“I’m not like the others.”

– Charlotte T.

Note: Also posted on: CUHK Kairos Blog 

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