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“Where did it go? Where's my phone? Where's my phone?”
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The little girl walked down the hallway, holding something important in her hands. Fully concentrated so she won’t drop it, she doesn’t realize that the door she’s headed to is collapsing in itself. She does not see the blood, the ash, she doesn’t smell the fire or smoke. Eagerly the door is opened, but the item falls with a crash. Someone’s body is everywhere, organs where they shouldn’t be. And there’s an awful, awful, amount of blue.
“A woman always on the street called me a ditch "A ditch on my block,” she said”
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“Do you even understand the damage he’s done?” Of course they did. Why wouldn’t they? Why does Ravenia think of them to be dumb? They know what Creslin has done before. Why does it escape her mind that their people went through it too!? “Do you even remember?” This person’s voice was faint, as if they couldn’t hold on to the words said. “At all? Anything?” A pause that filled them with a taste they cannot place. Panicking, they clawed at themselves, to stop choking? To worsen it? To breathe? It hurt, so so so bad. “I remember!” They wanted to shout, “I remember!” It’s all they could do anyways. No matter how much dye they used, the blue came back. It felt so suffocating, so so suffocating. They’ve always hated the color blue, preferring green instead.
“I just want my mind to be a clear glass / Clear glass with nothing in my head. I keep thinking, "Surely, somebody will save me" At every turn, I learn that no one will”
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“Why is it that you demand everyone else to see you as your own person, yet you keep crawling back to him?” He asks, eyes trained on them as if somehow he’ll find all the answers just by looking. They wanted to speak, so badly, but that weird lump formed again in their throat. They opt to look outside the window, a cigarette they never smoked in their hands. Why did they? He knew just as much as them that having gone ‘independent’ was useless anyways. He doesn’t say anything else, and now his gaze turns judgmental. They know they’ll always have him, but maybe he believes that when it comes to it, he’ll be more important. They go into the restroom, and immediately everything shatters.
“I just want my mind to be a clear glass / Clear glass with nothing instead”
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The roots definitely needed a touch up. The blue was appearing again, as if the void darkness they desperately tried to drench themselves in to avoid the memories. They also needed to cut their hair again. It’s growing too long once more. They tried to look into the mirror but there were bright colors splattered about, disorienting their vision and making them throw up. The blue and pink overlapped and threw themselves at them, and soon they couldn’t see themselves through it all. They tried and reached for the door but collapsed instead. Someone on the other side quickly approached the door before they blacked out.