The Thorn Chaise

Chapter 1

A barrier of rain engulfs the little village atop the mountains. All its’ inhibitors have found stability within their residences. There is only one creature outside during the downpour: a sobbing child. Or at least this is what the reflection in the puddle is telling me. My reflection is crying, yet I don’t feel the supposedly warm tears damping my skin. I guess the rainwater refuses to let my trembling body get any heat.I look down at my hands, their dark hue matches the rain cloud that hovers over me. My fawn-colored palms sit shakingly on my bruised knees. I can see my veins, they’re quivering too. Restless drops turmoil the puddles adjacent to me, yet I can still catch a relatively clear image of myself: my coily hair, once in neat puffs decorated with variegated clips proudly sitting atop my head, now disheveled, being stirred by the cruel wind who purples my skin. My nose is heavy with snot, and tears feel weighty in my eyes; they redden my sclera. My vision blurs more and mor