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Sun glares down at her
its a wonder why she has not burst into flames
The blood is on her lips
of the Mother Akasha and Father Enkil
The salty tears on her cheeks
as the coldness rushes into her veins
No longer alive
she touches her skin its as hard as stone
Her once cinnamon skin goes two or three shades lighter than it once was
She stares into the mirror like lake seeing her reflection it is prefect no marks no visibly signs of old age
Lovely youthful skin forever
*snap*she hears a twig break and looks at the stranger who dares take her from her away staring at herself
the stranger stares young & strong stares wide eyed & lusty at beauty of the girl and says "Goddess Adya" while kneel at her feet
She runs away with inhuman speed of vampires hating herself for being the split image of the Mother Akasha who made her...