A girl with short brown hair sits on a swing set and sings a song gently.
Back and fort, back and forth, she swings and sings.
The curly blond headed girl watches from a distance for awhile before she finally walks up to the in-motion brown headed girl.
"hi." The blonds voice holds false cheeriness.
“Hello.” Came the dull replay. It was a reply that was as dull as the girls brown hair.The girl swings again, not looking up.
Both girls are quiet fro a moment or two.
"what’s your name?" the girl with the blond hair leans up against the rotten wood of the swing set.
"Name?" The girl with the brown hair looks up and blinks as if she is just waking up from a dream.
The girl with blond hair sighs as if she has been through this a dozen times.
"Your name." the blond fumbles for a second. "You know the symbol your parents give you, your name that defines you, that name."
The brown head shakes her head as if to clear it from unwanted cobwebs. Her strait brown hair whips back and forth across her face before settling back in place at the sides of head.
Her brown eyes get distant and her face contorts as if remembering something bad.
"I think-" she takes a deep sharp breathe. "I think I remember."
Her head falls into her hands. "My name is Angelina Marie Valdez."
The girl with brown hair whips her head up and finally looks at the blond headed girl.
'Pretty eyes, warm and brown much like brown sugar.' regret lapses through the blond’s body as she has this single thought.
As the blond watches Angelina, blood drips between the soft spot on the girls neck and chin. Her eyes get as wide as saucers.
Angelina stands up fast. She is tall, taller than the blond.
"What did you do to me?" She looks down at the blood pouring over her hand and to the ground without a single sound. The blood mixes in the fabric of her shirt and pools at the base of her white throat. The blond looks up calmly, serenely at her fingernails.
"Your dead." the blond’s voice is as brittle as glass.
"D-de-dead?" Angelina drops her hand from her neck in dejected defeat. The blood stops moving, leaving a red gash across the beings throat. The blond looks at it and she can see the bone of the girl’s trachea. Angelina’s eyes seem to get distant and faraway staring strait ahead.
"I remember now." Her voice is just a whisper. "What happened to me."
Angelina takes a good look at the girl standing before her and gets a small wrinkle between her brow.
The blond has blond cherry hair floating around her face is soft curls, ice cold blue eyes, lips that cherubs would kill for, wearing ruddy black T shirt, pants and red sneakers the color of blood, but-
"Will it hurt?" the words escape Angelina's lips before she could think about mouthing them. She knew her time was coming, but she didn’t know when. Angelina is looking at the blonds hip as she speaks, hugging her self as if she wants to disappear.
The blond is surprised. "What?"
"That." Angelina tips her chin towered the weapon at the blonds hip.
"I don't know." The blond answers honestly.
Angelina sighs with regret. Her time has come. "OK then." she breathes through her nose and out her mouth, loudly. "Get it over with."
Angelina closes her eyes. If she had a pulse it would be beating like a butterfly's wing against her rib cage.
The blond nods her head, her jaw set. She unsheathes the scythe at her hip, pulling it out to its full height with a ring of metal against its holding.
Centuries worth of memories and blood pile into the blonds hands and up her arms, making her vibrate with emotions only known the Drouv.
The Drouv lifts the scythe above her head and looks at the girl before her.
Regret, despair, anxiety, anger, anguish, and more vibrates through the arms of the Drov as the scythe whistles forward, through the air, towered the unharmed girl.
The scythe touches Angelina's skin and bright light bursts forth from the impact, blinding both girls, and shoving them several feet apart.
A Melody hits the girl's ears with ringing clarity, a melody that sings through the sky and lands on the girl’s ears with a hushed serenity.
Both girls fall into the void of blackness that awaits them both.