My Poor Heart

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Edited slightly, very slightly.
Previously titled 'the left path'

Claire's POV

I feel breathless, mute, as if I'd lost my voice. My eyes were as wide as saucers in panic and everything was going the way not one soul expected. Atticus wasn't going to save me, I was going to die and the villain was going to win. Crazy bat girl was going to win. I feel myself fighting to clutch onto her, anything that would keep me safe and without risk of dying a very painful death.

               Wind flutters through my blonde hair that now feels weightless, my cheeks flushed in fear as she— the bat looks down at me. Her beady eyes appear to have humor in them, lips tilting to show her fangs. Dread piles into my stomach and I know that she already knows what to do— her plan on how to kill me.

              With one last glance, she releases me high above the chasm of spiky rocks— venom in her inky black eyes.

She let go of me, and now I was going to die.

I was going to die without saying goodbye to the poptarts in the pantry. I hear a gnarled scream rip out of my lungs as my body drops at a rapid pace; Nothing can compare to the terror that awakens in every nerve in my body. I feel my heart drop faster than my actual body, twisting painfully as curl up into a ball.

I glance up for a split second— to see if a murderer like her would stay behind to watch me die, or to change her mind.
She did neither, her gigantic coal wings flapping powerfully in delight. The last thing I witness of the creature is her wings as they soar away; having finished her business.

This time, I actually release a horrified sob which gets silenced by the ear splitting wind. The rocks below me were jaggedly sharp, and there was no way I was gonna make it alive. I close my eyes to silence all of my terrified, dark thoughts.

        Think happy thoughts. Poptarts, Netflix, supernatural, puppies, the harry potter series, books, Atticus- wait no, he's not very happy. He's only happy when he sees me do something he finds amusing— or cute.

I can already picture his playful smirk turning into a scowl. 'Stay here'', his words echoed in the surface of my mind. Well, at least I can say that I actually listened, unlike those stupid girls from those crime books that I read. This wasn't on me— this was on that psychotic Chiroptera.

Come to think of it— I've been falling for a pretty long time now. Am I dead?

            I open one eye in curiosity and find myself staring straight at a sharp grey rock. There's speckles of water still drying on the rocks and boulders as if it had been recently raining— iridescent colors swirling in the droplets. My fall had never ended, and yet— I wasn't flying through the sky or falling rapidly anymore.

Floating.

I was levitating— everything was at a calm still around me. I open both eyes and look around, noticing white tips of mist starting to creep their way up the rocks and near me. I slowly reach out my fingers, making contact with the rough textured rock.  My body moves on its own accord as I gently lower my legs to the ground, clasping a secure hand on the cold surface. I let out a shaky breath, biting my lip in relief and anxiety of having faced ultimate doom twice in one week.

"Am I dead?" I ask out loud as a deep masculine chuckle sounds within the air, vibrating against the rocks. The mist licks at my feet as a voice sounds out above me— around me and within me.

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