Charakter

That night, it was raining, the dim glow of the street lights shown my path. The gate towards which I directed my steps was open. I went into the yard without looking for a sign of life. Making my way on the creaky old porch the door was not locked. I proceeded inside with hesitation of someones presence. Here there was not a glimmer of light, it was pitch dark, with a eerie sense of loneliness. Feeling my way down the hall in search of some light or someones presence. I stumbled against a mysterious object in my path causing me to fall. Upon standing I notice a hallway, with a small flickering light at the end.
I am not at the moment writing a factitious story, but the picture I saw from the dream was odd leaving a sinister feeling in my chest this could only have been drawn by death. As I make my way down the hall way, straight before me was a door leading to a little drawing-room. Candles lining the room, threw a scanty light on the crimson walls. As my eyes grazed the room, they land on a all too familiar yet desolate feeling. A coffin was standing in the middle of the little room. Candles on either side, danced across the half opened coffin. Leaning in to look as the shadows danced, among the billows peeped out two pale hands clinging on a cross. Making my way up to see who lied here in this docile place, my heart stopped. A faceless woman lied here, “Who is she?”, I whispered to myself. This place was cold and dark, lifeless, the emptiness overwhelmed me. Looking up behind the coffin was a painting, tree, one single lifeless tree. Such as the woman in the coffin, the coffin itself, and everything except the softly glimmering lights, were still as death, as the tomb itself.