And then, I heard it. The omenous drone. They were coming. They arrived in their uniform of scarves, with their mocking, bright colours, a whole group of them. I tried to blend into the background, but they pointed me out, they picked me. They had decided that I was the prime candidate for what it was that happened to us when we were taken away. Whatever it was, they never came back. Not once they were taken.
It was my time.
I didn't want to go. I watched them bring out the it out, the thing that made us fall.
I pleaded as they brought it closer and closer to me, tried to brace myself. I screamed in silence, as the metal teeth made contact and then cut into my exposed flesh, biting and hacking. My dead air agony fell on deaf ears. They didn't seem to care at all.
I fell heavily to the soil, before looking up at the sky for the last time. Then I lost consciousness.
I woke up in a strange room, propped in a corner, my nakedness strung up to be judged and leered over. They had adorned my broken body in baubles and ornaments and knotted me in lights. Condemned to a slow, lonely death under the searing bulbs. The humiliation had been furthered by branding me with a star, a garish reminder of my shame.
They looked on my dishonoured body with satisfied smiles, seeming to care little for the sap I bled onto the carpet...
x
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