Flash Fiction Friday: Week #9

Amy C over at Romance Book Wyrm and Dottie over at Tink's Place
have come up with the idea for a Monday Morning Flash Fiction challenge. Each Monday a new picture prompt will be posted and if you choose to participate - you post your story on Friday.

And here is the ninth picture prompt:

 

Here is my story. 

The Struggle
By Michelle Greathouse

She had long vowed to never fall prey to the evil that lurked within her; an endless battle she fought daily - one that was becoming harder to win.

As the vessel for her family, it was her duty to allow the spirits of her ancestors to fight for possession of her body; with the strongest spirit ultimately taking over and pushing her completely aside.

The spirits hounded her day and night, not even in sleep could Vivian find rest.  Her family encouraged her to choose one, make it easy on herself - as if she were not important at all.

Vivian was surprised she had not gone insane with the inner struggle to remain inside her own body, her own mind.  Her 25th birthday was fast approaching and Vivian began to plan.

She could not give herself up to the raging spirits, nor could she continue to struggle with them night and day.  Vivian saw only one way out and , God forgive her, she would take that out.

The ballroom was decorated in white, yards and yards of billowing fabric draped over every available surface and blowing in the breeze from the tall casement windows that had been left open to keep everyone cool.

A black tie affair and everyone dressed in their finest.  Only Vivian was allowed to wear white and her gown was absolutely beautiful, strapless and flowing, the train nearly as long as she was tall.

She descended the staircase and everyone turned smiling, some even meant those smiles - others hid malice behind those false smiles.  But she did not care.  She would no longer be a puppet to any of them.
 
Vivian accepted the champagne that was offered, took a sip and wandered through the crowded ballroom.  Once she was sure everyone had seen her in attendance she slipped into the library.

Alone, Vivian sat on the divan and pulled a small vial from the bodice of her gown, gazing intently at the pale rose liquid it contained.  Shaking her head as if that would stop the screaming she now heard echoing inside her own mind - Vivian added the entire vial to her champagne and downed it in quick gulps.

Feeling free for the first time in her life, Vivian made her way onto the patio and then took the path into the forest.  She ran, her train flying out behind her.

There was no turning back now and Vivian wouldn’t if she could.  Her feet flew over the leaves of the forest floor and Vivian laughed with the sheer weightless feeling of running.  Running from her past, running to her future - the freedom of running away.        

Vivian stopped at the cement monument that was the entrance to the family cemetery.  How fitting.  She lay down and carefully arranged her gown.  The voices in her head were screaming, the pain was so intense Vivian wasn’t sure if she could withstand it.

But withstand it she did - and after a while the pain eased, the voices receded to a manageable murmur and Vivian planned.

Finally the poison worked its magic and Vivian’s pulse slowed, her breathing became labored and her heart stopped - she was dead.

Rising, Vivian left her body.  She looked around until she spied the spirits who had tormented her for her entire life.

“Nothing you can do now bitches”.  Vivian raised her hands and began her chant.  “I bind you restless spirits.  Bind you and send you to hell.”
 
With a scream the spirits vanished.  Vivian looked down at her body one last time, turned and walked into the light.

The End
Word Count: 604 

What do you think?  I had to stretch my imagination with this one - but when I came up with the idea - I ran with it.  :)

M