Novel & Cerita A Thorn That Pierces Me

I ran until my legs ached, thorns pricking my skin and wild branches slapping my face and shoulders. I was mad at the world. I could barely feel the pain as the thorns pierced my skin, drawing just enough blood. What I wanted was raw pain. A strange vine with claw-like tendrils crept tightly around my wrist, wrapping itself around me like a child clinging to something familiar. I tried to remove it, but it curved deeper into my flesh, unwilling to let go. I let it hold me, feeling its treacherous thorns dig into my skin like they belonged there.

I let out a cry as the pain intensified. I called it. I knew that thorn was poisonous. The eerie noise from before sounded again but this time, it was more intense. I tried to stand but I fell back to the ground. A cold breeze blew past me and I shivered. I began to hear a loud thump. It sounded like the footsteps of a giant. Oh shit! This is bad. Very bad.

There was just a thorn and velvet petals. A red rose. I brought out the flower. My finger brushed through the stem. A thorn mistakenly pricked my skin. "Ouch..." I said almost aloud. My finger became hot from where blood beaded The room went quiet, only the sound of the clock ticking and my breathing. I swallowed nothing, no tears. I don't even know what I even want. The moment my skin hit the thorn,my body was clearly his. I looked at the bead of blood on my finger.

*Thorn* The pain is a dull throb now, a background noise that blends with the harsh fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. I’m slumped in the chair, my body a marionette with severed strings, barely hanging on to consciousness. I can feel the bruises blooming across my skin, each one a testament to their cruelty. I know they’ll keep coming, keep pushing, until I’m nothing but a broken shell. But I will keep fighting, and keep my mouth shut. I can handle pain, I am used to pain… probably more than anyone else realises.

“The girl is me but before I got sealed. And she is locked away with everything I was and represented before it was put on me.” “Why was the thorn able to hurt you then?” “How so?” “The day I marked you, I followed a pull that led me to your mind.” He told me. “The girl had scratches on the hands and the plushie was almost tattered and with a collar of thorns around its neck.” A shiver ran down my body, the image he presented was truly terrible. No wonder that back then, I felt like dying instead of living with that constant terror and pressure.

The spear is still lodged in his side, the wood slick with red. ‎ ‎For a heartbeat, I can’t move. Everything inside me freezes. Then something in me snaps. ‎ ‎“Not you,” I whisper, voice shaking. “You don’t get to die here.” Thorne can't die. I'm prepared to die, but Thorne has to live. I can't live in a world without him. ‎

Its silence wrapped around us like a blanket, and for a moment, I let myself believe it would last. That the storm we’d been bracing for might wait a little longer. Then the pull began. It started in my chest. A slow ache, dull and strange, like something inside me was being turned toward a direction I couldn’t see. I shifted under the blankets, frowning, but the sensation didn’t stop. It intensified. A throb in my mark. A pulse beneath my ribs. Theron stirred behind me. “You feel that?” I whispered. He was already awake. His voice came low and gravel-rough against my ear. “Yes.”

All I could really feel in this expanse of thorns was pain. That was bearable. I was used to pain. It’s been my companion longer than I can remember. Pain I can bear. Vera was still crouched in front of me, her creepy smile etched on her face. Taking a moment to steady myself, I gathered all of the strength I could muster and immediately threw my hand out, gritting my teeth as the thorns tore through my skin all the way until they were out. Catching her by the side of the head, I pulled with all of my power and slammed her face-first into the thorns.

“Touch it.” I can’t stop myself. Green light floods the room, filling my vision. All I can see is the rose and all I hear is the music as my pointer finger stretches. I just… want to feel it–the cold metal–the gift left by a mother I never knew but desperately miss. The music rushes through my ears as my finger brushes over a single, golden thorn. “Yes… yes… do it!” “MAXIANA!” Annabel screams my name as the thorn bites into my skin. The room spins before going an inky, dark, black.

"What happened at the Thorne Mansion — I mean, office today?" Jessica couldn't help but crack a small smile as she launched into the story of Evelyn Thorne's visit, her sharp observations, and the unsettling feeling of suspicion that had settled in the room after her phone call with Ann. “Nothing much. And yes — when you had called and asked if I found anything, his mother walked in on me…. I was stoned.” “Oh– shit!” Ann yelled with her palms raised to her open mouth in amazement. “I'm so sorry Jess — I didn't know.” Ann apologizes sincerely.