Starting To Get To Me, pt2

“Come to me child.”
She turns her head, smiling casually. Her lips are the ideal frame for her perfect teeth, a portrait of snide and derision. She can’t sense the danger. Her eyes scan my face, and pause on my eyes. The pause is but a glance, yet more than enough. Slowly I begin to feel myself sliding into the innermost recesses of her darkness.
“Come to me child.”
Her eyes are an icy blue snapshot of topaz in the dead of winter, and the way they manage to shine in this lightless room is nothing shy of extraordinary. Her hair frames them perfectly, and it’s clear that she prides herself on them, as she does most of her appearance. There has to be something, a chink in her armor. She steps closer to me and I delve deeper.
“Come to me child.”
Her smile slips away, and slowly the room becomes aware of her lack of presence.
“Steph, what’s goin on?”
“Tell her to back up.”
“Come to me child.”
“What the hell is he doin to her?”
My eyes open wide, and she falls into me. Every thought, every dream, becomes my weapon.

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