her head hurt.
she kept imaging things in her brain. it felt like her skull was splitting at the seams.
she dreamed of little girls that night. ones with long silky brown hair, white dresses and millions of stars. she dreamed of gods in the sky with strings, looking down on her.
she dreamt of old gray houses. she dreamt of tall men with thick books and swirling wine glasses.
she was screaming. her head hurt. she turned around and around in her bed. there was pain.
red. red everywhere. knives. a small pale hand grasping the handle. a deep scream. red. more red.
she dreamed of hands. hands holding chocolate, hands holding knives, hands holding glass. the glass was thrown at her. she screamed.
she woke up in a cold sweat just before it shattered.
YOU ARE READING
Nemiah
Mystery / ThrillerA Short Story Nemiah. Nemiah. Nemiah. The name echoed in her head. Nemiah, the prey. She, the hunter. TW: Abuse, Death, Blood, Murder
