that's why her hair's so big; it's full of secrets.

The naked body rests half-in-half-out of the bathtub; its back perched at an unnatural angle over the tiled rim. His eyes are still open in terror and his hand is outstretched towards the door. There are no clues as to how he was murdered; I have checked and rechecked every inch of his pale, somewhat waterlogged corpse. No marks, no blood, no disfigurations. Nothing. This realization brings a smile to my lips. Of course, until I notice they’re staring at me. Those men in their crisp, clean uniforms—I've always loved a man in uniform. They stare at me expectantly, waiting for some sort of confession. I glance down at my hands, which tremble slightly. Then I clear my throat and say, “I didn't kill him, if that’s what you’re getting at.” But I can still feel their eyes on me, looking me up and down. Not that I mind their attention one bit; I've been through this time and time again. 

(A little background: This is just a short piece I wrote for my Creative Writing class. We were asked to write a paragraph in the first person where the character telling the story makes you think they're lying. Enjoy.) 


part trois.

When the girl finally awoke, it was early spring and she found herself thawing, much like the ground beneath her. As the morning sun started to rise along the horizon, birds began to sing in the branches above. And even though her mind was as numb and vacant as the hole in her chest, their cries caused the girl to stir from her deep slumber. Her paper eyelids fluttered open; the dark blue of her eyes had grown pale beneath a thin layer of film that had collected there. So, after one disorienting moment, she began to take in her surroundings, along with the strangers body she found herself trapped in.
Spiders had sewn their cottony webs down the length of the fragile carcass, clinging to the hollows of its collarbone and crisscrossing inside the telltale cavity where its heart should have been. The skin of its arms and thighs had started to wither away, only bone left behind. And if she had been able, the girl would have wept at the horror of what had become her. But no matter how melancholy the scene before her appeared, it couldn't compare to the sorrow she felt as the memories buried deep within her of a beautiful boy with warm, adoring eyes began to surface.
As the memories came faster and faster, however, the sorrow quickly turned into animosity. And, with this new sensation burning within her, she peeled herself away from the deteriorating body she had once known, letting her ghost float sweetly away from its home and through the wilderness in search of the one who had stolen her heart. 


part deux.

Seductive whispers became the downfall of the girl. He spoke of romantic trysts and eternal promises; skeleton keys to her heart. It wasn't long before her guard crumbled, vulnerability quickly taking its place. "Come with me," the wolf murmured, taking her skeletal hands in his, "and I will give you the world." 
"Take me," she breathed, letting him lead her deeper into the woods. The chilly air bit her cheeks, goose flesh bloomed across her entire body, but she couldn't feel it. All she felt was his warm hands in hers. He was the world; nothing else mattered. And because of that, she let the wolf have his way with her in his den of shadows..
The morning found her naked and fragile. Her fair skin had turned translucent, finger-painted with her own blood; it trickled crimson rivers down her chest, where a gaping hole bloomed. Inside, the bones of her rib-cage emerged like the skeleton of a sunken ship; the hidden treasure--her sweet, beating heart--was nowhere to be seen, along with the wretched wolf who'd stolen it. 


part un.

The girl had been warned. "Protect your heart," they had whispered over and over again. But she was different from the others; witty, invincible. I won't fall for the wolf's tricks, she told herself, wandering through the dark woods. Shadows suffocated the terrain below her feet, making the girl stumble; her pale knees bloody.  Tree fingers grasped each other overhead, the faint hoot of owls hung ominously in the autumn air. Yet, wanderlust fierce in her indigo eyes, she carried on still. And as she trudged deeper into the belly of the woods, he found her. The sweet aroma of her soft, alabaster skin drawing him to her; he could smell her innocence from miles away.. 
To the girl's eye, the wolf looked nothing like a wolf; with warm eyes the color of milk chocolate, russet skin that had been deepened from days under the sun, and only the top of his head covered in thick ebony hair. Though his full-lipped smile appeared dear and affectionate to the girl, the desires of his heart were anything but. They were that of an animal; carnal and salacious. He wanted her virtue, and most of all, he wanted the timid, naive heart he could hear beating softly behind her rib-cage.