Spit spew from the *****’s mouth.
Snot dribbled onto parched lips.
Salty tears traveled down marble skin; dripping down chin.
Hands gripping onto the rope that bound her wrist together; ankles tied to the legs of the wooden chair, rubbed raw.
Her wail which was once loud and piercing, now low and of mumbled sobs.
White ***** sheet draped over her body soaked with, sweat, tears, spit, snot, and slobber.
What had she done to deserve this?
Who would pity the ***** who bore dark hair and marble blue eyes?
The woman who traveled across sea, she who mysteriously appeared in this small town.
She recklessly rocked in the wooden chair, back and forth.
Her wails and sobs did not stir the townspeople.
For they knew what she was.
Silence.
Her head hung. She was still.
She began to laugh, the chair began to shake, thudding against the floor hard. Loud.
She became hysterical. Now violent with her movements.
Watch her.
Do you see her?
Lifting off the ground and slamming back down.
Silence.
Raspy breathing. Heaving.
‘Morrow come she has yet to move.
Her breathing now shallow and loud.
Night fall; she slip rope and vanish.
Now only the moon know where the Red Woman travel.