Darker Blood

Just a short story - if I say any more I'll be spoiling it (go read it) If you have any tips, just let me know

We are born with white milk blood, like the liquid we drink from the youngest of ages, rushing through our small, delicate veins. 

Our blood grows with us, like the hair that silently sprouts from your scalp, feeding on the sunshine and happiness like a sunflower, but dropping away eventually; out of sorrows or old age.

When you adapt and fill your mind with memories, occasionally mistakes also form. In your teenage years, you make the most stupid ones - taking from others, playing with their hearts, and messing up your soul, as if it's been sucked into a black hole and ruthlessly been spat out again. 

Sometimes, these mistakes involve our Protectors; turning our pearl - white blood darker. For some, it turns as dark as the empty abyss of our universe: space. Where no one can hear you scream, and where eventually your heart turns to the fine dust that you find on the beach, the substance that is so familiar to some, but harmful to others as they dip their feet in and get pulled under - fine grains filling their throat.

And those 'some' may be those that you love and treasure.

But how can you believe that those most precious to you have committed these acts of treachery?

You walk beside them, the wind blowing through your gentle clothes. 

The top that they wear is so vibrant, that you can't imagine yourself wearing it, or even begin to fathom how this person next to you is able to walk in the busy streets of Dziwonow without a sliver of doubt or timidity, and also not be able to look like a complete fool.

So you stare at them in wonder; their light steps, their inexplicable and unremovable smile, and of course, the sun in their bright eyes.

You are so completely mesmerized by them, that you catch their beautiful and much - wanted attention, like the latch of a gate hooking onto the tinted fence of your peaceful front garden - clicking into its unquestionable place and position.

For a split second, you almost get a glimpse of a glimmer of embarrassment, which automatically develops into happiness. Happiness at your admiration - which is impossible and unfathomable. Just to think, how could someone so gentle and beautiful, perfect like the goddess of the moon, desire you, your company?

But this thought was pushed away, to the darkest and deepest part of your mind where only those that you love would be able to reach. 

Just enjoy it, you tell yourself. And you do, until this beloved and cherished being at your left trips and falls knee - first onto the hot, cracked pavement of Pionierska, sending obvious pain through their whole body and physical features.

Dropping down with them, your reaction to this spectacle is your arms outreached, catching and holding them. The relief spreads across your face just like butter being smoothly caressed over the fresh, warm bread that your grandpa went out to get this bright and sunny morning. Unfortunately, it doesn't last: you spot their perfectly cut knee bleeding out. 

Bleeding out the darkest blood you had ever seen - as pure black as there could be, or as black as the paint that your mother uses every morning to entertain and release her creativity, which creates the widest contrast on her pale peach - white canvas. 

It was as black as the pupils of your eyes that you see every pale morning or silent evening, having to get ready for the day or night.

Their blood was as dark as the ring that your great - auntie gave you on your fourteenth birthday as a symbol of your coming - of - age, the chalk - black stone reflecting the colour soul you had. 

This reminded you of the emotional sunrises you spent with yourself, at a time in your past when you felt so useless and unbearable to be around.

"I'm - I'm so sorry. I got blood all over your new jeans" there was a hesitating pause "I can explain. Just listen," 

I didn't think that I could. But something inside my heart stopped me from rising and running swiftly in the other empty direction.

"I had a bad past. I broke a lot of different people's hearts. I stole and took from others. I was homeless at one point. I didn't tell you because I was scared that you didn't want to know me."

I swallowed slowly; this was a lot to take in, and it was as if a rock had formed in my tight throat, which had been stuck there using super glue throughout my soulmate's words and sentences.

"Also, I haven't paid for my music since 2006." 

A smile formed on my forgiving and comforting face instantly.

"Oh yeah, I forgot that was a crime."

Author's Note

Let me know if you have any other ideas or tips

Reviews

[Unspoken poet]

Very vivid imagery and I love the detail as well as the descriptiveness.

[blueberrypages]

Thank you, I appreciate it

[Crimson]

I really like the idea of this story! I could see it going somewhere, have you considered this?
I also really love your writing style, it's very descriptive.
Well done x

[blueberrypages]

Thank you! I appreciate it, and no I haven't really though about it, mainly because I just vision the story ending there. But thank you anyways, I'll think about it x

[wordman]

you are a great story teller

[blueberrypages]

Thank you :)

[Eclipse]

V.Good. V.Deep. Peace and love X

[blueberrypages]

Thanks, I appreciate it X