I had a good weekend, lots of stuff to do, and another full weekend coming up. I am loving the beautiful weather conditions; yesterday was absolutely gorgeous, in the seventies, and sunny.
So I have only about a page and a half of the story, but I thought I would post it anyways. You guys deserve it for being so patient. :) If you guys have ideas about where it should go, please email me or comment. I am open to suggestions. :)
The violin wailed pleasantly in Annabelle Lochton’s ear as she toned herself to the music, slowly adding in her own part, a crescendo, and a new tune, dancing playfully with the other instruments. They created a beautiful melody, but she could hear none of it. There may have been other people on the stage, but in her mind, with her eyes shut tight, there was only her. She paused, slowly dying out, and then moments later coming back in. A harp joined the song, and she smiled to herself.
This was perfection.
A shot rang next to her, and a searing pain roared up her shoulder. Another pierced her back, and her lips opened in a silent scream. She did not make a sound as she fell to the floor, and the last thing she saw was her mahogany violin falling to the wooden stage, blood splattered on the front, and the strings humming a sad note.
Black around her
Black underneath her
But then there was red. She remembered the red. Blood.
She fell again back into sleep’s deep embrace.
When Annabelle woke, she found that the rigid blacks had faded to not-pleasant browns and greens. She sat up swiftly, crying out as searing pain shot up her arm and into her head. Panic took her over. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed on which she lay and slid off the side, nearly falling before a tanned hand pressed her gently back into the blanket.. She struggled against him, increasing the pain in her shoulder, but subdued when the pain came to be too much. The momentum of her surrender sent her falling back onto the cushions, and releasing another burst of pain into her spine.
“Sorry.” the man muttered. He began to walk around the room, gathering things; a bottle here, a rag there, and finally coming to rest at her bedside. He lowered the shoulder of her shirt, exposing her skin to the unknown man. Her first instinct was to bat away his hands, but when he put a needle into her arm, she felt weak and sunk lower into her bed. The dim light allowed her little vision of her captor. She watched silently as he peeled back her shirt, and dabbed a cloth at the accumulating blood. She gritted her teeth. The rag came away red. The man finished his work and bandaged her shoulder well, tightly, but not too tightly.
“Rest.” he said, quietly, “You have been shot.”
No?! she thought to herself. I’ve been shot?!
She closed her eyes and did her best to rest, but found that sleeping in a place where you do not know is more than slightly unnerving, and found little rest in the burrow. She looked around as she was unable to move much. She finally found a digital clock and found the time to be around 3 AM just before she fell asleep.
Thanks so much for reading. I already have a back story for most of the people, but again, if you have any ideas about where it should go, or anything that you think would make it more interesting, please let me know.
Thanks again. :)
Have a blessed week. Lord-willing, I will post again soon,