51st Summer 513AV
21 chimes past midnight - Directly continued from here
Fallon stumbled - rather loudly - into the suite only a few chimes ago. The strong face that she had fixed upon her had crumbled mere ticks after she had closed the door and plunged her and the room into a deep darkness. Staggering to the wall, she felt her head rest against the cool stone. Her bruised head creased in pain, her shoulder throbbing intently as she slumped against it. She wanted to deny what happened, she wanted to forget what happened. But she could not, it burned so brightly and intensely that not even the deep darkness could quell it. She ached, her mind ached, and her looks matched it. She was a mess, she knew it and anyone else who would look at her would know it.
It was difficult to hold back a whimper. Was she crying? Gods even she did not know any more. She slumped against the wall, face creased in pain, her hands gripping onto her arms. Petch it hurt, it hurt more than she could truly comprehend. He had said something to her, a murmur of words, something about becoming stronger, better. To become a knight. She was not sure anymore, time had become little more than a blur to her.
The girl slid down the wall, lips trembling as the scene flickered back and forth in her mind. No, it did not happen. It could not have happened. No. Could it? Her hand pressed itself against her eyes. It was wrong, it was all wrong. Something like this was never meant to happen. Never ever. Weak, pitiful, she deserved not even be called a squire, let along acknowledged as one. Yet here she was, grovelling in the only place that she could deem as safe, that dark space of nothingness. How long could she stay though? How long could she stay put and shoulder that burden?
Not long. She had to run. She had to run away again. It was the only answer. She could not face herself anymore. She despised and hated the very essence of her existence. Dirt that was what she was. Common shyke to be tossed aside and simply forgotten. Her voice cracked as she held back a whimper, her fingers clenching onto the makeshift bandaging. She no longer knew what to do, short of curl up and cry. But even that piece of peace was not on offer to her. It would make noise, it would attract in others. And with their attraction would come the questions. Choking she stared out across the room. Gods, when would it stop? This nagging, hollow state, this dead weight of despair? Would they notice? Would they care?
Gods, make it stop. Please. Just end this… just for a chime… please.
x
21 chimes past midnight - Directly continued from here
Fallon stumbled - rather loudly - into the suite only a few chimes ago. The strong face that she had fixed upon her had crumbled mere ticks after she had closed the door and plunged her and the room into a deep darkness. Staggering to the wall, she felt her head rest against the cool stone. Her bruised head creased in pain, her shoulder throbbing intently as she slumped against it. She wanted to deny what happened, she wanted to forget what happened. But she could not, it burned so brightly and intensely that not even the deep darkness could quell it. She ached, her mind ached, and her looks matched it. She was a mess, she knew it and anyone else who would look at her would know it.
It was difficult to hold back a whimper. Was she crying? Gods even she did not know any more. She slumped against the wall, face creased in pain, her hands gripping onto her arms. Petch it hurt, it hurt more than she could truly comprehend. He had said something to her, a murmur of words, something about becoming stronger, better. To become a knight. She was not sure anymore, time had become little more than a blur to her.
The girl slid down the wall, lips trembling as the scene flickered back and forth in her mind. No, it did not happen. It could not have happened. No. Could it? Her hand pressed itself against her eyes. It was wrong, it was all wrong. Something like this was never meant to happen. Never ever. Weak, pitiful, she deserved not even be called a squire, let along acknowledged as one. Yet here she was, grovelling in the only place that she could deem as safe, that dark space of nothingness. How long could she stay though? How long could she stay put and shoulder that burden?
Not long. She had to run. She had to run away again. It was the only answer. She could not face herself anymore. She despised and hated the very essence of her existence. Dirt that was what she was. Common shyke to be tossed aside and simply forgotten. Her voice cracked as she held back a whimper, her fingers clenching onto the makeshift bandaging. She no longer knew what to do, short of curl up and cry. But even that piece of peace was not on offer to her. It would make noise, it would attract in others. And with their attraction would come the questions. Choking she stared out across the room. Gods, when would it stop? This nagging, hollow state, this dead weight of despair? Would they notice? Would they care?
Gods, make it stop. Please. Just end this… just for a chime… please.
x