T H E T U S C A R O R A R E V I E W 2 0 2 3 3 1 Savannah C A S L I N T O N The first time you see Savannah, she’s a beauty more terrifying than anything far beyond compare. A name fitting for plains with rolling grass and gentle wildlife, one that holds silent predators that stalk prey and unsuspecting victims alike. Who is she to you? She’s a quiet girl with fluffed blonde hair and curled bangs that frame her soft face. She wears large round glasses rimmed with red exuding an air of innocence. Soft words that breath so hesitantly in her wake, flowing, poofed, unnaturally clean dresses of those soft sparkling colors adorning her figure to give her a childish air. A snake in the garden, a girl so innocent it could be nothing but a ruse. You meet her on a beach, where she stands with a quiet pensive look, the sheen of the moon glossing over the lens of those large round glasses to hide her eyes. You ask how she was, if she was okay or needed a ride, and she turns to you all the same in time to see those doe-brown eyes well with tears. You don’t think about how clear they are, devoid of red, how her cheeks only flush so cutely and don’t bear a speck of snot or spit as a normal creature would produce with tears. You reach your hand to her, enthralled by this gentle beauty, a longing in your heart to help her all the while. She takes your hand, and gives you a soft smile that makes your heart flutter. And for a moment so brief, you’ll see underneath. Doe brown eyes turn black and empty, skin drawn taunt and gray across bone, a dress regressed to show bare skin and visible ribs, flaring gills on her neck to reveal royal blue flesh underneath, and that soft smile of perfectly lined teeth turned sharp. Your heart skips a beat, rising to your throat as you claw to pull it back down, to shake the visage from your mind.
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