Tales Written When Poetic

Dreams are warnings

note: excerpt from my other book "deceptions" which is incomplete but i still take pride in this.

She never thought to be the one to relate to old statements mother said, never been the 'one for anything' is something she would mindlessly agree on. Dreams are used as a playtime for man's mind, as much stupid as it sounds but she has always ignored the warnings that kept nagging on her mind. She should have listen, indulged herself with paranoia and ignorance in hopes of the future's conflicts.

Today was yesterday's future, she hasn't had much time before she is to be one with earth as they would say. They have been tormenting her past, present and future. If she had the chance to go back in time and take it all back, she would.

But who is she? Nothing more than a woman seeking mercy at the hands of the unknown. Fear is what she could feel as stress and fatigue over took her dull senses. Her eyes were sealed shut as she felt the air around her hot and limited.

Where was she?

It is a question she would ask if her throat doesn't feel like she's thrown up her lungs already. Her legs were being dragged again the carpeted floors she could sense the softness of it in contrast of the unkind roughness of something else. Her hands fixed on her back side connect by a harsh material she was guessing to be rope. Her arms being grabbed her two anonymous forces that seemed to be taking her somewhere, maybe these were the devils taking her to the depths of inferno.

She could feel the migraine tapping on her mind like the ticking of a clock's seconds. Her eyes gradually tried to open her eyes, a sac seemed to be placed as evident from the dark beige cloth that surrounded the area around her head. Small speckles of light didn't help the theory that she was on her way to hell, maybe she was on her way to death.

She heard the doors open and close, till there was stopping in the movement, she is pretty sure she'll get bruises from the probable hands of the unknown.

"Put her on the chair and leave us." An unfamiliar voice chose to overwhelm her senses by being the first one to hear since she grew conscience, she knew she was doomed. As demanded, she felt an arm let loose of her hurting upper body, she heard the screeching of metal against the floor.

When losing sight, you need to focus on other senses to be aware of your situation, or conflict and how to fix it. One of the first lessons she had ever taken as a rookie, but right now she feels utterly and desperately helpless.

Goosebumps prickles unwillingly on her skin when she had been placed on the cool of the probably metal chair. By default, her body betrayed her as she began to shuffle in her seat, now they know she's conscious. She had been put in situations like this too much for her time, but none of them had been with a person she'd never heard their voice before. Kidnapping is considered an act of foul among them. Her inner circle has been overly populated, but since he died they could never look at each other the same. Once she was kidnapped by her lover twice, she could list her vulnerabilities, such as love.

Loving him was a sentence to hell, and apparently a 25-year sentence to prison. She should've killed him the moment he decided to gaze into her eyes, or lay her on his floor mattress. She should have killed him like all the others. Yet the doors of apprehension opened as she felt the numbers on the back his neck, he was 'the forbidden one'. Her mother would tell her to not speak of it, only through the few years that she lived with her or the years that she remembered living with her. She has learnt more than she should have, more to put her under the name of 'cacciatore di uccelli' or the bird chaser. Her name is unknown to many, but limited to who know it.

Before she knew it the cloth was being gradually pulled off her face, her eyes involuntary squinted for the brightness of the light that illuminated the room.

She was sitting in a rather classy room, it looked like a billionaire's office with a dash of Victorian designs. In front of her was a man, a rather old looking man looking like he might be in his late 60s. The man sat in a chair with a desk that was seemingly empty with only seven things on to; a white pill, a blank paper, a bottle of water, a bottle of scotch, a pen and two glasses.

"Untie her too." The man then spoke, matching the voice she had previously heard, and one of the men who had masks on their face came behind her to do as followed. Her hands and long nails were the only weapons she had right now.

As the man leaned down to untie her, the second her hands felt free from the harsh material her scissored her index and middle finger to align them with his eyes quickly with her even looking. She pressed her hands in the watery shell of his eyes and they popped, she had been in this game for too long. She also deciphered that the man upon her was Tucker, and that was not good. Leader of the sirens. She knew the paper on the table was her deceptions.

Deceptions isn't used for its meaning here; it's used for a cover of the injustice of being one with nature.