Personal Narrative: In The Blink Of An Eye

In the Blink of an Eye She is an enchantress. She is the thin crimson film of blood enveloping slashed wrists. She is a flame gone wild. She burns and she swallows. She is the agony of salt buried in a knife wound. She is the destructive madness of love and hatred. She is fire, for fire burns and it swallows. She is fire. She is fire, and her name is Red. I used to live like I was meant to. With a home and a mother, and affluence and wealth. My mother was happy, and I was not, simply because of my incapability to do so. I was born with ghouls living in my skull, whispering commandments inside me. And I listened.
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Red was the only person who came with me. She caressed my hands in a fashion that sent shivers down my arms. She walked by my side as we went …show more content…
She filled my head with thoughts of warmth and passion. She numbed of the pain of my clotted thighs. She worked miracles. We walked hand in hand up the dark checkered stairs of the institute, never stopping, even though I felt I should’ve. A nurse guided us through the halls. She walked us around for some time, showing us around the corners that housed crying spirits with hollow eyes and hollow stomachs. The corridors echoed with screams of pain and fear, but with Red’s presence next to me, I chose to ignore the pleas for help. We were, finally, led to our room. The third room of the third floor of the third block. I was happy to know I could be alone with Red. I told her we could be together, finally. And I reached out for her fiery, silk strands of auburn hair, her dark irises capturing every flash of interest the dark room could offer. And she shook her head. “We are not alone. They’re crying,” she says, and she gestures to the closed door of our room, where outside, shadows wept. I stared at her lifted cheekbones, her angular jaw and her smooth skin. “Can we just ignore them?” I asked, and she nodded. “Then why does it matter if they are there or