Where once, pretty rosebuds had graced the pale skin, now two black vertical holes gaped; and a small trickle of blood. They had cut her deep, cored out the mounds as if the n*****s had roots. And the inner flesh, swollen and extended, mushroomed out through the jagged slashes, like the cotton batten through the splits in her grandmother's sofa cushion.
Taz looked about the ground, frantically trying to spot the bloody n*****s with the foolish notion that if she could find them, they could be restored; making her friend whole again. But she couldn't find them. She looked back to Marie's face, hoping for some guidance, some solace. Then she saw the blood on Marie's lips; realized Marie's jaw was still working to rid her tongue of the metallic taste. Taz went cold. Understood. Oh god, she f
