Intoxicated By Suffering
"Cassian! It's Blanche, she's not breathing!!" He shouted in horror.
I leaped forward and took her, as I examined her body I froze. She lay still, her features frozen in an eternal repose that belied the vibrant spirit she had once possessed. With hesitant hands, I reached out, tracing the delicate contours of her face, committing each line and curve to memory.
Her skin was cool to the touch, a stark contrast to the warmth that had once radiated from her. As I brushed back a lock of her hair, the realization of her soul's absence washed over me like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf me in a sea of despair.
I lingered over the gentle rise and fall of her chest, willing it to stir once more, to break the silence that hung heavy in the air. But there was no response, no flicker of life to answer my silent plea. She was gone, lost to me forever in a cruel twist of the devil's version of fate.