Post by Talia Winchell on Jan 12, 2013 11:30:14 GMT -5
Granted, Talysus Winchell looked better than she had in the last few several days, but her hair was still notoriously dirty. If Em had been there, she probably would have reprimanded her twin sister before shoving her under a shower head emitting scalding hot water; however, December wasn't there. She hadn't been there for months now, hadn't been with the Hermes children to ring in the New Year, even; one of the primary thoughts that had fully formed in Tal's head as she watched the faraway fireworks light the night from mainland New York was that Em would have loved to have been there, spent the day with them. However, she hadn't been there and she hadn't seen the camp yet at all this year. The thought made Tal sad, wonder where she was; deep down, she knew the answer. It was impossible for someone to deny an Iris message, as it was for one to not reach its destination. But coming to terms with what she knew wasn't going to make the fall any easier. She pretended that she knew her twin was still with their mother.
Now, she was braiding her hair down the left side of her head, pausing occasionally to take focused breaths as though breathing were a sort of science as opposed to something that came to everybody naturally, that had come to her naturally. Stopping halfway down the bunch of hair that she was weaving into a pattern, she blinked several times until she brought the water to her eyes then looked at her surroundings. Rumpled bedsheets, clothes piled on the floor, possession scattered across the entire length and width of the cabin. Turning her eyes to her own self, she saw the scars; those that would burn crimson if she could see their color. She was alone in the cabin, and that was the only reason they were visible; in any case, Jamian, Taylor and Bailey already knew they were there. And knowing Jamian, he probably would have told Darcy and Dylan.
Before she could stop herself, she picked up the knife that had long since been stowed underneath her bed and slashed at herself with motions she knew all too well by now. She watched as the blood rose, then as it rivered down her arm and onto her hand. It gave her an odd sense of satisfaction, that even though there was pain, it was inflicted by herself. It was some sort of pain that she could control, although deep down, she knew that she wouldn't stop doing this even if she had had a desire to. It throbbed and it ached and it bit at her, but she didn't stop until her left wrist was nearly covered with slick, new blood.
As soon as Talysus had put down the knife and slid it clumsily underneath her bed, leaving the scent of blood lingering throughout the entire cabin, she saw that the handle of the door to the Hermes cabin was twisting. She made no attempt to hide her arm, knowing that she didn't have enough time anyway. "...Hi," she said in an awkward attempt to begin conversation as the door swung open, creaking the whole way.