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Does your memory defy you to recall the turn of events presented to you previous to now?
The voice had been seething in her ear for the past few days none stop. She was becoming fed up with its nocturnal outbursts and rude remarks. She didn’t know how to block it out. It practically shouted at her at times, demanding to be heard, understood and responded to.
“I see not why that matters,” she retorted, glaring inwardly at whatever beasts might lay beneath.
One day, not long before today, Lenz had struggled to maintain some sense of sanity. She was repulsed by the burn mark on her hand. She was disgusted at what she had let herself become. Her hair was now ratty, the colour stained from weeks of dirt. Her hands were filthy, covered in detritus from several days of unhygienic activities.
She had become such a hazard to herself, such a disgraceful creature, that she had took it upon herself to teach herself some manners, the little she knew that was.
She had taken a glance at her skin. She could see her pores, swollen and filled with specks of black debris. She had taken her skin in between two elongated nails and had pulled. She scratched, clawed and ripped at her flesh until it bled.
The grotesqueness inside fled out in thick waves of scarlet materials. She was left with a subtle pain radiating up her arms and into her chest, but a strong feeling of accomplishment draped itself across her shoulders with the chilling comfort it often provided.
She felt numb soon after this exercise. Her mind had succumbed itself to involuntary seclusion. She no longer felt the pain, the lust and the longing for those which she did not have. She couldn’t feel anything but her heart beating within the cavities of her solar-plex.
At one moment she had morbid realisations. An idea had formed inside her malevolent mind, the set it was currently controlled to dark and ominous, yet she listened to it every waking moment of the day.
What if I were to end my suffering? she had thought for the millisecond it took the idea to rise to the surface. She pushed it back down, subjecting herself to more probable causes. She needed to maintain her life the way it was.
She might have lost everything and was suffering drastically for it in result, but she had aspirations to succeed to, whatever they may be.
You speak to me as though you have no memory of the day, the voice persisted.
Lenz sighed and rubbed her temples with her index fingers. “I won’t speak to you if you threaten me with your tenaciousness.”
It was clearly outlined, her mood. She was in no way willing to accept arguments, for whatever the outcome presented itself as, she would indeed win.
It was treason, her mind constantly working against her, yet she prevailed each and every day with new intentions each morning and disquieting depictions every night. She couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t be saved, but did that deter her to struggle through the endless bells of each season? No, it did not.
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5th of Summer, 514 AV
Does your memory defy you to recall the turn of events presented to you previous to now?
The voice had been seething in her ear for the past few days none stop. She was becoming fed up with its nocturnal outbursts and rude remarks. She didn’t know how to block it out. It practically shouted at her at times, demanding to be heard, understood and responded to.
“I see not why that matters,” she retorted, glaring inwardly at whatever beasts might lay beneath.
One day, not long before today, Lenz had struggled to maintain some sense of sanity. She was repulsed by the burn mark on her hand. She was disgusted at what she had let herself become. Her hair was now ratty, the colour stained from weeks of dirt. Her hands were filthy, covered in detritus from several days of unhygienic activities.
She had become such a hazard to herself, such a disgraceful creature, that she had took it upon herself to teach herself some manners, the little she knew that was.
She had taken a glance at her skin. She could see her pores, swollen and filled with specks of black debris. She had taken her skin in between two elongated nails and had pulled. She scratched, clawed and ripped at her flesh until it bled.
The grotesqueness inside fled out in thick waves of scarlet materials. She was left with a subtle pain radiating up her arms and into her chest, but a strong feeling of accomplishment draped itself across her shoulders with the chilling comfort it often provided.
She felt numb soon after this exercise. Her mind had succumbed itself to involuntary seclusion. She no longer felt the pain, the lust and the longing for those which she did not have. She couldn’t feel anything but her heart beating within the cavities of her solar-plex.
At one moment she had morbid realisations. An idea had formed inside her malevolent mind, the set it was currently controlled to dark and ominous, yet she listened to it every waking moment of the day.
What if I were to end my suffering? she had thought for the millisecond it took the idea to rise to the surface. She pushed it back down, subjecting herself to more probable causes. She needed to maintain her life the way it was.
She might have lost everything and was suffering drastically for it in result, but she had aspirations to succeed to, whatever they may be.
You speak to me as though you have no memory of the day, the voice persisted.
Lenz sighed and rubbed her temples with her index fingers. “I won’t speak to you if you threaten me with your tenaciousness.”
It was clearly outlined, her mood. She was in no way willing to accept arguments, for whatever the outcome presented itself as, she would indeed win.
It was treason, her mind constantly working against her, yet she prevailed each and every day with new intentions each morning and disquieting depictions every night. She couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t be saved, but did that deter her to struggle through the endless bells of each season? No, it did not.
