Excellent Sometimes our bodies know what we need better than we do. Love Out of the Darkness : Love Out of the Darkness Part 2 by A.Myers85 Artwork by cleo85 at FanArtReview.com

Warning: The author has noted that this contains the highest level of language. Background A young woman struggling with writer's block flees her home. But is it to inspire her thoughts and finish her assignment, or is she escaping some hidden emotion? Part 2 Her abrupt sniffle broke the deafening silence, and she hurriedly shoved her feet into her shoes and decided a quick stroll around the neighborhood would help. She paused at the closet but shook her head. She wouldn’t be gone long. Then, careful to avoid looking at the pictures decorating the wall, she grabbed her keys, locked the door, and fled. The screen door slammed shut with a resounding bang. Aimlessly she wandered, eyes fixed on the ground, hands buried in her pockets. Overhead, the sky darkened—the promise of a downpour imminent. I should have grabbed my jacket or umbrella, she thought while berating her thoughtlessness. You should have known better, Lesha. Wincing at the chill seeping through her sweater, she rubbed her arms, eager to escape the lingering cold. Yet, even as the walkways emptied, others heeding nature’s warnings, she didn’t go home. She couldn’t. Instead, her feet propelled her forward, their destination unknown. Abruptly, raindrops speckled the ground. One drop. Two drops. Three drops. Soon, more darkened the ground. Cars rushed past, their tires slicing through the growing puddles, waves of water drenching the already wet sidewalks. Her clothes, soaked and a second layer of skin, slowed her movements, but her feet continued moving forward, demanding, urging her forward. Bits of hair clung to her face while other strands oozed liquid ribbons down her back. Where am I going? The thought tumbled through her mind, restless, urgent like the nearby swaying trees, their leaves and branches fluttering in the wind. Then, her feet stopped. Stumbling forward, she blinked the rain from her eyes and gasped, the familiar gated entrance haunting her vision. No! No, no, no, no! Loud protesting screams threatened to erupt from her throat; yet, she could only glare at her feet, her vision blurring and fists clenching. Damn it, feet. Why did you bring me to the cemetery? Author Notes Part 2 has arrived--and boy, did writing this leave me raw. Lesha was my mom's name and my story's protagonist. Her love interest, Ron, will come into the story during parts 3-5. Please let me know what you think of this. Update on my toe: thankfully, it's not broken or fractured! The doctor thinks I might've torn a ligament, which I did years ago when I stupidly tried to walk on a sleeping foot. Regardless, I can still move around, so hopefully, it won't take long for my toe to heal.

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