Behind the Fairytales

Behind the Fairytales
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Thursday, December 27, 2012

03- Invisible Strings

 On the day after the celebration, I finally came to a conclusion of what I would do about the safety of Kiara. I went into the garden and there I was, thinking of a way to tell that I would leave it to strengthen me, because it certainly will create resistance so I do not go.
 I ended up forgetting the time and only came back to reality when I felt a smell of flowers lady-of-the-night, my wife just had that smell of perfume because I always give gift to her. It really was Kiara, dressed in a white and silver kimono, her hair still wet and loving, warm and soft on my face.
- Honey, is something wrong? - She asked in a low voice and melodious.
- Do not worry princess, it's okay, I'm just putting thoughts in order and thinking of a way to tell you that I'll get away with a time of you to make me stronger. For some time now, various enemies you used to tease me, all because I do not have that strength I had.

 She looked at me quietly, seeming to understand my reasons and for the first time believe them without question or require me to prove anything. She touched her lips on my sweetly and stood beside me.
- If you promise to come home to me and I'll be quiet.
- I will never leave you, angel.

 Kiara smiled and stayed with me, watching the crescent moon and falling snow. A few minutes later, I heard a little gasp and saw that my princess had fallen asleep. I went up to the bedroom and lay down with her, but did not sleep. I stayed up all night contemplating the sweetness of my wife.
 A while later, she wakes up slowly, probably feel my breath near her.
- I woke up, princess?
- No, honey, is that I thought you had already left.
- I would never leave without saying goodbye to you.

 At that moment, she pressed the right sleeve of my kimono and let out a cry of pain. I could smell her blood and saw that the left side of the waist of her kimono was dyed with blood. Appeared a cut on her neck, near the central vein and a very thin wire sparked by moonlight with the blood of my wife, denouncing also the location of several other cutting edges. Before it broke the lives of Kiara, I cut the strings that came from the window. In the garden, a lyre was lying white and the owner of the instrument cowardly fleeing.

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