I could barely stand as my feet ached with all the dancing we did that evening. That night. I could barely feel them. But I didn't stop. Even when he asked me to. Even when he stopped, my feet could barely stop. I kept dancing, closing my eyes, feeling the wind. My feet ached and burned and shards of glass dug deeper into my skin, making tears to flow down and my lips to stretch in a smile.
"Leah," Satan called me, but my bare foot walked over the grass, letting my blood ooze out of my wound, speaking on the leaves and grass. The soil coated my wound and I could barely feel the pain anymore. I only felt release. The release of emotions. Of pain. Of misery. The loneliness I had been surrounded by, flowed down as blood, making my pupils dilate.
"Leah, stop!" He said again. His footsteps
