My hand moves across the paper before me as if guided by an invisible force fuelled by rage and madness. Dust from the stick of charcoal between my fingers swirls in the air, their tiny particles magnified by my keen eyes and yet not even they can distract me from that face. I stare down at the crude etching of that which haunts my every waking moment, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. I’m plagued by those rainbow eyes that looked upon me as they widened with an emotion I never thought I could bring out in another. Though I have tried to purge the memory from my mind, I still feel the burning in my fingers from where my flesh touched hers…
Touch…
I touched her…
The cursed flesh that has damned so many met hers and yet she remained unchanged. Her essram did not contort into a
