writing

The Spiral Staircase

Slowly she ascends, dressed in white, spiraling up, towards the light.

Her wings glisten in the rays. From her eyes, she no longer sees a haze. Her vision is clear for miles and her heart is full.

But the skies above darken, the wolves below begin barking. She loses her footing and plummets down through the spiral, her wings slamming into the rails, falling nonstop. She no longer has control, spinning and spinning until she hits the marble floor.

Her blood spills, turning her pure white dress to red. She reaches up, betrayed, but surviving the fall.

Grabbing the rail, she begins to climb again. Her broken wings scrape the walls, becoming dirty and grayed as she climbs.

The wolves ascend, starting their chase. She knows she cannot stop their advance. But she tries. They tear at her hem as she continues to move. Snarling, vicious teeth clamoring at her.

Suddenly a whistle rings out, stops them cold. The staircase shakes, throwing them off. They land on all fours and run away.

She stops and breathes. Her dress ruined. Her wings broken and tarnished. The darkness envelopes her.

She stands up, and begins to descend back to the depths. Time to heal in the dark for she doesn’t believe she is worthy of the light.

She closes her eyes so she no longer sees the glow of above. Tormented by not reaching the goal. If she’d just look, she’d see. It waits for her.

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