Balancing Act

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The thick drop of blood oozes out of her flesh and slides down the blade of the sword in slow motion. The pain shoots up her leg and sits like molten lava in her tummy. Her tangled hair float about her weightlessly in the darkness. A tear stings her eye and threatens to fall out. She sniffs deeply and blinks it away; puts the next foot down, balancing herself gracefully on the blade; the cuts on her feet so deep, every pinch of her screams with every step.

She quit trying to stare into the darkness for a sign of him long ago. She quit trying to take comfort from wishful thinking and hopeless dreams, and memories of a blissful past. Now there's just the narrow path he's ruthlessly laid out for her, and she cringes to think of what had happened the last time she gave up.

And she walks this narrow path - as sharp as the blade of a sword. Is it for the love of him, or is it in fear of the pain he could inflict on her for straying?

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