Amnesia's Nightly Massacre

Written by April Belin |
Published on:

She held her rib's as it protruded

Amnesia was more than her name at 25 years of age.

Her brunet eye's to go with her brunet hair was very casual yet classy. 

A yell escaped from her beautifully sculptured parted lip.

She ripped her shirt of and wrapped it around her rib cage .

The pain was bearing as she knew what was awaiting .

Her stomach growled as she tried to tuck in her bloody red shirt.

Her hand released on her bloody grasp as a door slam's.

Her foot shuffled towards the corner of the room.

A shadow crossed through the hall by the open door.

On the opposite corner where she sat was perfect .

Secluded, dark, and outta sight. She watched him.

His voice was as a smoker's voice .

He would soon step into the light, as she cringed and held her breath.

She covered her mouth as she squatted down more comfortably.

His every foot step invoked her already trembling upper torso.

For a moment the pain she thought of seemed to decease.

Feeling's of mentally and physically being fade.

Diminished with nothing but vein's pumping through enough lost of blood.

Yet protruding rib's and fat meat was all you could see or even smell.

This too shall pass ,she quietly recited looking up while on her knees in a stance with prayer hand's.

A shine off his boot caught a reflection of her eye perfectly .What is that ? She questioned herself. Must be a buckle?

(On a boot?) she kinda figured ultimately.

She didn't know .His demeanor at first glance , beyond his voice was hellion.As she couldn't read this Massacre if her life depended on it.

Fancy, rich, mean , but most of all intimidating. Is what she gathered thus far.

She's thinking how in the heck did i get myself into this again?

She did a body scan as she's looking him up and down trying to figure him out still.

He step's fully into the threshold of the door as she hears a unpleasant growl .

Darn it ,scratch that it sounds more like a roar.

Is it a tiger? It sounds like a tiger!

Really , a freaking tiger, are you serious?

This man they call" Massacre", is no joke!

What did I get myself into ?

 Amnesia yet again will be late for dinner on her nightly adventure's she voyages on

Massacre is grinning at her with his 7''2'' , 320 lb. muscular body waiting for her to react .

She jumps out of the shadow with her Katana sword , as he leaps to the right.

Gonna be another long night mumbles Amnesia .   

Already neglecting her protruding rib's.

Well worth it for what it is, she shrugs.

"Massacre?", what kind of name is that , she grin's back.

Swinging her sword at a perfect angle .

Amnesia beheads this Massacre

Massacre it was , well for Massacre , she chuckle's.

With a growling stomach she's now of to Dinner  


Copyright ©

Form of Poetry

I do not know?

Author: April Belin
April LaDawn Belin , 33 yrs old, Native American of the Navajo Nation from Na'ah'teeh Canyon, Az .Pursing a career as an International Writer/ Poet/ Illustrator/ Lyrics/Scripts/Screenplay/Holiday Cards/Photographer I reside in Holbrook, Az . Creating an illusion with words and drawing can't describe how much it's very much part of my life . I enjoy daily , to express my one of a kind creations.
My External Website (External Website Opens in New Window)


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