Angel.

Her fingers fly and she writes …about her heart, her life her passion she dreams and her dreams become words in black and white and from behind her mask she emerges….from walking in the mist , the fog to
 
Fear….she is shaking and she holds her breath….then breaths faster and faster .
The music that plays in her head is fast and furious and her thoughts can barely keep up with her heart beat… as she types , her fingers flying over the keys the thoughts tumble and jumble and she try’s to keep them straight and her words become an orchestra in the dance that is her life….
 
 
She walks into the room…glides more so really, her graceful ways and quiet manner take a stand….demand attention …She sheds her robe…and all she wears is a wisp like smoke…the mask comes off…and she drops it aside …the window open is where she stands and she looks out over the world, her city of lights and angels of stone……the tears fall freely and she lets the wind fall through her hair…caressing her like the lover she most fears.
The orchestra follows her movements and she raises her hand out…and point out her toe and dances….graceful she glides and twirls across the floor…her movements telling her story…of her fear and of her sadness….the mask lays on the floor at her feet and her toes just barely miss it as she spins past and around…her arms flung out ….she dances with the wind…the lover that comforts her in all her…loneliness….the music gets fiercer , louder…faster and her movements follow along…the wind picks up as a storm rolls in and she dances…dances and dances….then you see her…really in writing…the girl in the corner….as the girl dances in the bare room…they don’t see each other…they don’t notice and they don’t even exist to each other…one girl…writes with a fiery tenseness , lost in the passion of her story and her words…her face shows a straight concentration so …intent….her fingers fly…simply fly…..she shows no emotion….her face of stone…like the angels in the city…hidden in their gardens…always in their meaning…they speak to her but of what she does not know ….she can’t hear and she try’s and try’s….
Her fingers though…tell their story…across the pages of white the words in black they are not her own….and they flow….
The dancer is weeping…she spins and spins now with the faster louder music and the mask at her feet looks up as though with empty eye’s ….much like her own soul…the angels dance with her…the wind they are and they lift her….take her heart and leave her bleeding…but at want for more….
She runs…her breath comes out in steam…the music follows this one…she runs from….and yet to…what she doesn’t know…the beast behind her breaths upon her neck…breath hot and red if it where a color…she runs to keep out of reach and yet runs to keep up and to reach…for???
Her side aches…she wants to stop so badly , she can’t breath…her breath is in gasps and her face is in tears….her fear is bursting out of her chest and she see’s the angels faces she passes…everywhere she see’s them and yet she…can not feel them ….at first their eye’s are simply sad….and astonished as she runs past them….flying just ahead of the hot breathing beast ….and then their arms are reaching out…they are crying red tears of blood…and she knows…she knows ….but is she about to lose her ground to the beast behind her…or do they cry for the destination of which she is running? This is what she does not know but she must…she must continue to run…can’t stop…can’t breath and her legs scream out in pain…her lungs seize up and her tears come falling, making it all the harder . She fears her unknown destination…will she be safe? Will she make it…will it be right when she gets there? But she can’t stop…the beast behind her, she has no choice regardless…and then…the angels are crying…screaming out to her but she cannot hear their words…are they warning her of the beast coming down upon her or of what may lie ahead? The tree’s weep red now as she passes….and then angels are running , arms out stretched, toward her…but she fears they are not really there to protect her any longer…and she knows that they can’t if they wanted to…and she runs on into the mist…the unknown and the shadows of ahead….because though it might not be right…she can’t stop for what is behind….
 
Her only escape has always been ….and today is no different but today she is not sure that she can escape….she rides the red beast,
el demonio que te mata…the devil that kills you, the devil that will kill her…his white main flying in her face…as if to wipe away her tears…tears of sadness…or are they fear? Or are they anger…or madness? Behind her the storm follows and she try’s to keep ahead…yelling to spur him on…the golden fields are what lay ahead and she tries to reach them but they move away farther and farther….and the storm envelopes them, surrounds them , wraps up around them and the horse screams a scream that tears her heart out…and she knows that she has lost this race….he goes down , legs lost beneath him…and she gives up and goes to….she feels his weight crush upon her and her last breath being taken up in the storm…and she opens her eye’s to see the gray mad sky’s and the wind around her and her last breath is taken in as the horse screams out long and high , a scream that shakes the angels of the heavens and the devils of hell, one…. more…time…
The mask lays with empty eye’s…her toes now bleed…and she falls down to her knees….her hair covers her face and her hands meet the ground and no longer…does the music make a sound….
The girl in the candlelit corner stops writing…her hands hover over the key’s…and she stares at them for a moment, reveling in their stillness…..and she hears the silence in her head….Finally, her mind quiets.
The angel in black is ahead of her…his wings spread open wide….she can’t see his face, the unknown that she runs towards….and he holds out his hands…she runs straight into his arms and collapses….the beast behind her disappears in a red cloud of smoke….until all that is there is the wet and rainy street, empty and reflecting the lights….
She is pinned underneath the dead horse…and she doesn’t cry…she just stares up and watches the storm that surrounds her….and is lifted…lifted to the sky it seems…she doesn’t understand the words she hears that it’s going to be ok….her body is lifted towards the sky to which she stairs, the wind slows…slows and stops and the sun shines…and she closes her eye’s….
The wind stills, the storm die’s and the music stops…the horse no longer screams, her toes no longer dance and her lungs no longer breath… and her hands no longer type….finally….she rests….
 

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