
Clandestine Facts Inside Stitches.
By Jennifer Vila
Sure, this girl was gorgeous, your stereotypical beauty pageant queen. She owned this thick auburn-colored mane that downwardly flowed like a cascade and stopped right at the middle of her back. Her eyes always lit with icy blue fire which could smolder you until you had to give in to her splendor. She was full of life and had everything any girl, probably even a few guys, could ever ask for, but to be trapped in such a horrific place seemed incongruous to where she belonged…and yet it fit her. She belonged to a world not known to the mediocre lives surrounding her. She learned quickly and at a young age that not knowing enough is dangerous and that knowing too much is deadly. She was not a vacuous being. On the contrary, she probably had so much in her head that it set her apart. It caused her to have this furtive type of knowledge, and if it were revealed, her life would be in jeopardy…and yet she was light as feather when her graceful silhouette entered a room.
Time loosening its grasp on her was not an option. She had a decision to make and there were only two choices: speak or die. No one knows why she had to speak but everyone was extremely aware of what she had to reveal. She had to expose her endless amount of secrets, the ones she had put an infinite amount of effort in just to make sure humanity would never know.
She found herself running in some sort of forest, an incinerated one. All that could be heard was the faint shuffle of her feet moving rapidly across a clearing. The forest on each side looked untouched. The evergreens were standing perfectly as if no fire has ever touched them. They portrayed this majesty only some can imagine and those who experience it are speechless. The grass surrounding them was this gorgeous green you only see in magnificent paintings. The scene to each side of her was picturesque, yet the clearing she ran through was nothing less of depressing. The grass was dead, all yellowed and a faded brown. The path was rough, full of a dry kind of dirt that every time one of her feet made an impact on the ground dust flew up. She kept running, yet the sound was faded. Her head was pounding and her ears ringing. Through the evergreens, like high velocity winds, the ghosts of her terrors tormented whatever was left of her sanity. They repeated these words over and over, overlapping one another, “Thou shan’t divulge clandestine haven”.
She wanted to scream, she was ready to expose the lies she concealed deep in her being. There was one problem: she couldn’t. She tried but no sound came out. She continued to strive to try to make some sort of noise for what seemed like beyond an eternity, but all she continued to hear was soft shuffle of her feet impacting the ground as she continued to run deeper into the clearing which seemed to have no end. Finally, she trips, landing on her knees.
In front of her was a puddle of murky water. She examined the revulsion that was clearly publicized right before her eyes. Her reflection resembling someone unfamiliar yet someone she knew for years. The horror of her reflection stood out more than her physical features’ drastic alteration. She realized right at that moment why nothing but silence came out of her mouth. The black lines holding her mouth tightly from the top end of her lips to bottom end multiple times.
Her mouth was stitched up. Her eyes dead. He her hair flat. She had always been pale, but now she resembled those in a morgue waiting to be examined. Abruptly, a blade flew past her, barely brushing the side of her right cheek. It scraped and cut the outside of her ear. She yearned to scream, the pain was excruciating. Tragically, she couldn’t. She just let a single tear slide slickly out her left eye, caressing the side of her nose but yet felt like acid.
She picked the blade up and put it at the very edge of her closed lips that resembled a motionless, straight line. She made her choice, she was ready to move that blade across. Then, a dark shadow descends upon her. A bony, ice-cold hand rests upon her shoulder beginning to tighten its grip and it says, “Do it. Go ahead. Your life was a catch-22 from the moment you were conceived…Thou shan’t divulge clandestine haven”.
By Jennifer Vila
Sure, this girl was gorgeous, your stereotypical beauty pageant queen. She owned this thick auburn-colored mane that downwardly flowed like a cascade and stopped right at the middle of her back. Her eyes always lit with icy blue fire which could smolder you until you had to give in to her splendor. She was full of life and had everything any girl, probably even a few guys, could ever ask for, but to be trapped in such a horrific place seemed incongruous to where she belonged…and yet it fit her. She belonged to a world not known to the mediocre lives surrounding her. She learned quickly and at a young age that not knowing enough is dangerous and that knowing too much is deadly. She was not a vacuous being. On the contrary, she probably had so much in her head that it set her apart. It caused her to have this furtive type of knowledge, and if it were revealed, her life would be in jeopardy…and yet she was light as feather when her graceful silhouette entered a room.
Time loosening its grasp on her was not an option. She had a decision to make and there were only two choices: speak or die. No one knows why she had to speak but everyone was extremely aware of what she had to reveal. She had to expose her endless amount of secrets, the ones she had put an infinite amount of effort in just to make sure humanity would never know.
She found herself running in some sort of forest, an incinerated one. All that could be heard was the faint shuffle of her feet moving rapidly across a clearing. The forest on each side looked untouched. The evergreens were standing perfectly as if no fire has ever touched them. They portrayed this majesty only some can imagine and those who experience it are speechless. The grass surrounding them was this gorgeous green you only see in magnificent paintings. The scene to each side of her was picturesque, yet the clearing she ran through was nothing less of depressing. The grass was dead, all yellowed and a faded brown. The path was rough, full of a dry kind of dirt that every time one of her feet made an impact on the ground dust flew up. She kept running, yet the sound was faded. Her head was pounding and her ears ringing. Through the evergreens, like high velocity winds, the ghosts of her terrors tormented whatever was left of her sanity. They repeated these words over and over, overlapping one another, “Thou shan’t divulge clandestine haven”.
She wanted to scream, she was ready to expose the lies she concealed deep in her being. There was one problem: she couldn’t. She tried but no sound came out. She continued to strive to try to make some sort of noise for what seemed like beyond an eternity, but all she continued to hear was soft shuffle of her feet impacting the ground as she continued to run deeper into the clearing which seemed to have no end. Finally, she trips, landing on her knees.
In front of her was a puddle of murky water. She examined the revulsion that was clearly publicized right before her eyes. Her reflection resembling someone unfamiliar yet someone she knew for years. The horror of her reflection stood out more than her physical features’ drastic alteration. She realized right at that moment why nothing but silence came out of her mouth. The black lines holding her mouth tightly from the top end of her lips to bottom end multiple times.
Her mouth was stitched up. Her eyes dead. He her hair flat. She had always been pale, but now she resembled those in a morgue waiting to be examined. Abruptly, a blade flew past her, barely brushing the side of her right cheek. It scraped and cut the outside of her ear. She yearned to scream, the pain was excruciating. Tragically, she couldn’t. She just let a single tear slide slickly out her left eye, caressing the side of her nose but yet felt like acid.
She picked the blade up and put it at the very edge of her closed lips that resembled a motionless, straight line. She made her choice, she was ready to move that blade across. Then, a dark shadow descends upon her. A bony, ice-cold hand rests upon her shoulder beginning to tighten its grip and it says, “Do it. Go ahead. Your life was a catch-22 from the moment you were conceived…Thou shan’t divulge clandestine haven”.