Post by Talia Winchell on Jan 16, 2013 0:35:16 GMT -5
Anything that glinted with a bright light was to be avoided for fear that it were glass, and anything that she could see herself in was turned away from momentarily. But then again, there wasn't much that she could see. Scraggly medium-dark hair that showed to be a shade of gray, lighter skin, neutral eyes that seemed hollower and more so by the day. Talysus could barely remember that the hair was a chestnut shade as were her eyes, that her skin was light and satiny; all she saw was the ghost of somebody who had faded away. And who wouldn't? She looked worse now, she could even tell in black and white. Worst of all was the hollowness that she felt, nothing that regarded her physical appearance but what she felt inside.
Mostly, she felt a yearning; one to go back to how she had felt before all this. Why couldn't everything go back to how it had been? Part of her still hadn't accepted all of the changes. Sometimes, when she lay in bed at night, she felt as though she could still feel her two closest friends back there with her. When she was half-asleep, she constantly caught herself whispering to nobody, telling them not to die. She was unconsciously doing this now, repeating the two syllables over and over. Don't die don't die don't die. They pounded through her head and her bloodstream and carved themselves into her heart, the two words that she hadn't uttered before it was too late. She knew that people were worried for her, for her sanity; all the same, she felt as though she couldn't do anything. There was nothing worse than feeling your own self slip away, trying to stop it but not being able to and don't die, Luke and Bobbi, don't die.
Glancing towards the door, still whispering the words under her breath, Tal watched as it creaked open. She was sitting cross-legged on her bed with her hair hanging in dirty strands around her face that was mostly devoid of emotion and long baggy sleeves gratefully covering her wrists, and even with the knowledge that she looked like a mess, her siblings had learned to ignore it by now. At least, so she thought.
ooc; sorry this is rushed. D;
tags; darcy!