Friday, June 11
At first the vines crawled up her legs, scratching and reopening scabs and wounds of the past. They netted themselves against her thighs like stockings. In the dark they looked like spiders legs and eyelashes, lightly crawling and licking at her skin. They twisted and turned, reaching her hips they pulled in from either side to strangle her waist. Her hipbones poking out and her stomach fat moving in from either side, just enough to deform her navel. They got to her breasts and scribbled over them again and again until it was suffocated against her ribcage, the thorns teared in and hurt. They swam against her fingers, the gaps were perfectly filled but her nails were torn from them. Her neck was whipped by them, bruises appearing like the bruises of fruit, making them squishy and leak pain each time you touch them. The vines finally got to her mouth, they forced themselves inside, ripping apart her tongue and gums, they choked her. They kept coming until her body laid still by the immense pressure of this plant, her hands tied and her head choked against the flooring. Her eyelashes fluttered and they started to disappear slowly, the pain of this slowly being dragged away. Until she was nothing but naked, bruised and alone. She still felt it, but it wasn't as bad. This was doable, she could now breathe.