Amaranthine Odes | ONC 2022

◻Chapter 02◻✔️

◻Chaotic Curbs◻

In the cloaks of my fervor, all hues of the rainbow are just greys and blacks.
~ REMORSE.
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Nooo! Once and for all, tell me I'm in a damn bad dream.

He could hear his plummeting heart scream its trepidation. A shudder of voiding pain rooted down his senses, plaguing his nerves.

When the shroud of desolate agony weaved its play, his impish little finger twitched on his thigh. He held the shivering finger on his palm to warm it. But the clamoring fusses made it prance erratically.

You moron! Open the door. It's her who needs help. His gritty senses clamped him.

All of a sudden, how could she...?

His thoughts wobbled between his reasons, making him tighten his lids.

"Stupid, are you? Just make a move. Damn your pathetic diagnostic fashion."

Between the maddening darkness, he could see himself standing, facing the image on an archaic mirror.

But what will I end up with?

"I said you to take your stand. Have some courage, and this isn't your first time!" The voice roughened.

Yet- Argh! Why the hell is it happening again?

"Past repeats until the present owns it!"

And every failure weakens even the mighty hopes!

He studied his reflection intensely.

"Are we debating now? Keep calm and open the door. She needs you. She is all you have!"

His pragmatic senses prodded him to twist the doorknob.

When the wheel pivots, who am I to choose?

Sighing out the exasperation, he gulped down to seal all the irony. With a firm grip, he unlocked the door with a terrific force, only to halt at the somber cries he heard.

"The ravens of the knight had come tonight,
To spell the misspelled fate of plight,
The hues of autumn had become ashes..."

Through her turned torso, he could see her braided hair facing his fear crashed eyes. Her limping self looked at the white ball of frost in her palms, adorned in little rippling blue lights akin to the snow floating upon the night ocean.

Beads of sweat feasted his creasing temples. Through the odd silence that echoed his quivers, he entered the room. His nose deduced the oddly harsh, icy stench.

Cruel than the wintery storms!

He touched the walls and varnished wooden table only to feel them all a lot cold.

Or am I feverish?

Making the slightest noise possible, he switched on the wilted rose table lamp to birth some light in the murky room. He could see her bob her head to his side with curved lips.

"Ki-Maaya," he called, but she sat the same.

Wooow! Wauuu-

"Shush!" she hushed, waving her pale finger.

"Maiming the fine days of glad blushes,
Smiles of the shine had succumbed to the pain,
Pick me up, not just let it all drain. Drain? Haahaa!"

"Kimaya?"

Awwoouuu! Grrrr- Woooof!

Damn, these stormy groans!