The Forbidden Lullaby
She sang, she sang even when the king had forbidden music. Ever since the Queen died, no music was allowed. But she sang anyway. But she was careful to hide it. She sang the Forbidden Lullaby. The King found out, somehow, he always does. He ordered her to be put to death. She sang to her last breath, until they cut off her head.
The Broken Doll
...She carefully turned the corner, her fingers feeling for what her blind eyes could not see. Opalescent blue orbs, frosted blue, wide, childish. The voice had guided her here, the black clad stranger who had beckoned her and the rest of her friends today. He seemed so desperate... She knew not his name, but her young mind propelled her forward, to help the one which requested it of her. A light whistling of wind, the gentle splash of rain, and the rolling thunder, along with the scent of mildew told the girl that rain was here, and that it would soon become a torrent. Russet hair plastered to her forehead, and she pulled up her hood to protect her from the brunt of the chill. A low, whispery voice, as if the speaker’s throat had been slit and healed again, echoed through the air, and the blind child spun quickly behind her, only to turn once again at the light touch of a hand on her shoulder... or rather, the chill of a hand on her shoulder. Of course, he could not touch her. He was a ghost after all... or at least that was what he claimed. She could hear his heavy, soft velvet cape whipping back and forth in the rain.
That is all the short boy could see as he glanced around the room, his dull eyes unfazed by how empty the room was. Nobody else was with him. Not his mother. Not his father. Hell, not even his older brother. Only him and the rope that was laid on the floor beside his small feet. Looking down at the old rope, a hint of hesitation could be seen in his eyes. He didn't want to use it. What choice did he have though? Therapy was no good. Taking medication was just as ineffective as therapy was. So, when he really thought about it, was there anything that could aid him at this point? Was there anything that could heal him? He simply wanted to be saved from this torture. This torment… But he knew that would never happen. Life wanted him to suffer. While it may not have seemed like a normal thing, he had come to accept that 'truth'. He figured he was being punished for all the mistakes he had made so far, so he was facing the consequences for them. All the happiness he felt didn't exist anymore. It was ripped away from him, slowly and painfully. He was losing every positive emotion and thought he had. Every bit of laughter, every smile, every warm feeling...