"Dance With the Devil" by Raquel D.

She reached out for the hand on the floor. 
The wood board creaks as she pulls away the man to the other side of the room. 
“There,” she said rubbing her palms on her white blouse. She places him on the chair, and begins to clean his face. 
Scarlet rags fall to the ground. 
“Wow, so handsome! Do you want some tea?” she asks. 
His head nods once a “yes”. 
The stygian purple from the mahogany leads to the kitchen. She pulls out a dusty golden teapot, with two chipped mismatching tea cups. 
The sun blazes in through the openings of the house. In the kitchen, branches stretch out to the windows for sympathy.
A long groan is let out from the dining room. She heads out. 
“I’m going — ouch!” she excitedly yelps. She had forgotten to put on shoes again. Her feet were bleeding from the broken glass. 
She thought to herself, green or black ? 
She looked up to her father. 
Her father was silently waiting. His dark face was outlined by the rays of sunlight peeking in from the kitchen. Mixtures of silver highlighted streams flowing throughout the crown of his head. 
Is he mad at me again, she thought. 
She nervously placed the teapot on the table. 
Trembling she picked at her fingers while looking down to the dark void. She kept thinking over and over if she had done anything wrong. 
“I know either is your favorite…” 
He sat there still silently. 
Creepy entities began to wrap around her limbs. 
She desperately whimpered, “Please, no — ” 
Gasping for air, she violently falls to the wood floor creating a long “thunk”. 
Tumbling over her, the man falls on her. 
The room was flushed in dark. 
Bruises marked all over her body ached. 
She wakes to see crimson stained all over her home, shirt, and hands. 
She softly licks her hand. 
It’s sweet. 
Wobbling, she gropes the fallen chair and stands. 
With every thud, she approaches closer to the door. 
Opening the door, a breeze of wind orchestrated the leaves’ dance. 
Scattered abroad, she follows the their lead.