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Of Dragons in Your Arms

I thought I'd woke from a fever dream.  I was back in my room alone, with the sun just creeping past the sill.  I nearly danced out of bed, praising the morning for saving me.

“What the hell kind of dream was that?” I shuddered.  One in which I'd been the reincarnation of Eve, marched like a happy idiot into Hell, and, oh yeah, hooked up with the Reaper.

“What the...?”  A white scar shone on my breast, under the dark lace of my nightgown.  I fell to my knees and gagged.

“No,” I whispered.  My eyes were catacombs.  “No way in hell did I do that!”

I frantically scanned my room. There was a rose at the head of my bed, stem charred as if it'd been roasted.  It sat like a wicked promise.

Revulsion seized me and I ran for the bathroom.  I hurled til there was nothing but bile. 

I didn't leave my room for days.  I slept until I c

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