Bloody Full Moon
Laura - At home
I find myself lying on a bed of black velvet inside an empty room with no windows or doors. The walls are lined floor-to-ceiling with bookshelves, each filled from top to bottom. The books are all different sizes and shapes, but they all have the same purpose: to fill the emptiness inside me.
“Because I’m hollow on the inside,” I whisper to myself.
Under the blanket next to me, there is a figure wrapped in the same black velvet. I reach out and remove the cover, revealing an old man. His skin is wrinkled and pale, and his hair is entirely white. He looks as if he is sleeping.