“Each one began its life as a barbaric yawn, untamed and untranslatable, born in the dirt, starving, hysterical, naked, dragging itself from tongue to tongue for centuries before it could get its foot in the door of the lexicon,” Lilith whispered quietly as a childish wonder perpetually began to animate her mind. “Each what?”

       The question tickled her bottom lip as the question's mysteries were never exposed to the weak human eye which was always closed. The faded vintage letters coated the carpet and her skinny legs as she read one by one—curious of the treasures underneath the seals. Sighing, she wished to be effaced and erased from existence. What is the use of a being who cannot make sense of the words merging in front of their eyes? Lilith's imagination shrunk away like the leftover seraph of a letter in chalk dust on a blackboard.

Each...

       A chilling whisper squeezed itself out of the cracks of the door in the bitter wall. A shiver slid down Lilith's spine as a haunting type of beauty clung to the response from the door.

       “Each what? Each sound? Curse? Blessing?” She felt her eyebrows furrow above her eyes as curiosity flowed from her fingertips. She hauled herself to stand on her feet and sent a scatter of paper flying across the soft canvas underneath her feet. Moving towards the door that was seeping its venom through the paint of the wall, her palms touched the smooth surface of the knob. A shock swirled around her wrist as a yelp escaped out of her lips. Just as she was about to open up her mouth to respond to the burst of pain, the knob melted onto her palms. A noise flooded her ears, as if a wave of laughter was thrown out of the sea, out of the ocean’s mouth.

       The laughter of an innocent, young child began to play out hysterically. Trapped in the trance of the breezing laughter, Lilith responded too late as a scream haunted her skin—clawing, shredding, ripping, leaving it scarred and bloodied. A younger version of herself smiled cheekily at her through the door in the wall. Her younger self was trapped in the door—the door in the wall. The smile of the little girl slowly fell off her lips and landed on her dusty, worn out blue shoes as the young girl shook violently and her head rolled back. Her eyes turned black—blacker than any crushed coal left to die from the campfire. The little Lilith stared at her older self; her mouth parting slowly. The words hanged in the air, winding into the two girls' minds and stamping itself into its new home.

       You were born alone; you live alone, and you shall die alone. Each angel is an infinite aggregate myriad entity.

       “She's right,” Lilith's lip trembled, “angels aren't just one single being. They are made up of an infinite number of beings who have sort of crystallized into one consciousness. Can such a creature ever truly be alone?”

       Anger tumbled over the little girl's heart, piercing it with a dagger as she shook violently—trapped inside the door in the wall. She cannot come out and control her older self—her pity self. A sickening smile fell upon the little girl's lips as she churned the dagger inside her chambers. She felt the electrifying waves pour over her body. Dirges began to play in the background as mayhem stamped itself onto multitudinous crystallized angels.

       “Please, stop! Please! Monster, for you, I walk on a knife’s edge. To my eyes, you are a flickering light; to the feet, thin ice that cracks and no one may touch you because you will poison all. The cradle rocks above an abyss, and common sense tells me that my existence is but a brief crack of light between three eternities of darkness, of the wicked—of you,” Lilith screamed in fright.

       Closing her eyes tight, Lilith felt the breath of the little girl stinging fervor deep into her own skin. Meek and monotonous as the sea, her tears whimpered as their blaring waves washed over her skin. Opening her eyes, Lilith caught the last echo falling out of her younger self's lips as the door 

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a/n: a hw assignment; horror theme