Corruption (1)

My eyes are open, my index finger presses against the armrests, and before me stands my most coveted table. Vibrant, etched with patterns, adorned with crystals—a symphony of light beneath the blood-red sea. They all shine brilliantly, save for the crimson one, the one of my kind. My gaze lingers on it before shifting to the others. None outshine the rest; all emit an equal radiance. My thoughts feel crushed, my shoulders weighed down as if by an invisible hand. I should question what is happening to me, why these pains wrack my body. But instead, my eyes remain fixed on the brown crystal. Through my pale, distorted reflection, I stare at it with my cold, blue eyes.

“Kaila, come.”