"I'll come visit tomorrow. Sleep well, darling."

Eyes raw and blind, a warmth weighed on her chest, her lungs buttery soft. “Father, stay.” How soft and meaningless her voice seemed now. Without the reins, without direction, she was a ghost. But his voice was silver, a flame of white and frost. She left her body to follow, left that lifeless, coarse flesh to rot as it may, but something snagged. A searing pain gripped her throat, ripped her from the light she so desperately craved and wrenched her back into the distortion of an eternal night. A lifeline was not to be toiled with. Soul was bound to body as long as the person may live. She could only ever listen, watch sometimes depending on the strength she could occasionally muster to pull on her leash. Nowadays, that leash had grown tighter, stricter, dragging her toward a darkness she could no longer deny was just the blank space behind her eyes. And so she would do as her father had told. Sleep and wait.

By kikkopirate, April 22, 2015.