I looked at her hand, shaking in the night. And yet I could see in perfect clarity the impossible shimmer of moonlight on the dull black metal of the gun in her hand. Somehow I could make out the empty black hole at the end of the barrel as if it were a black hole in space sucking everything into it's ever hungry gullet to never be seen again.
My eyes were drawn more to it than to the haunted look in her eyes. And I raised both of my hands in the air in the ancient sign of meaning no harm. My breath held aching in my chest. Why wasn't I scared? Like the dead calm before a storm, or was I the eye of the hurricane and just not yet aware the storm had already begun to blow?
The barrel shook and I saw her minut slip as her finger squeezed down on the trigger. Not enough to actually release the hammer and spark that little ball of moving death striking towards me. Enough to shake me from my zen of calm acceptance, but I was still alive.
Now my body was screaming for me to run as if I were the last gazelle on the planet and surrounded by an entire pack of starving wolves. I wanted to take a step back, but knew somehow deep down it would put her predatory instincts in a frenzy. Still prey might be able to slip by a predator's eyesight, but running prey was cause for a chase.
To afraid to speak, to afraid to move, I stood watching her. Her eyes were open, diliated in the dark. Alien. Pale skin glowing in the night, hair red and tangled.
Jacy_Arienh_Sagira · Tue Jul 21, 2009 @ 09:12pm · 0 Comments |