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Posted on May 11, 2013 at 02:25:56 AM by salem
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| Salem doesn’t know innocence any more. She doesn’t know it through the fog of pain and hurt that’s taken her over. It’s her world now. The things that she feels are things she can’t control, and bits of her are slipping away. Though the ghost hasn’t moved since everything went wrong, her head hasn’t been quiet. Sleep doesn’t come. Sleep never seems to come. The creature doesn’t fear her dreams, but it doesn’t mean she wants them. No, there are things there that she dare not touch. Things that can’t be touched or felt were the worse of any she’s ever seen. Innocence was dead.
Pain isn’t a weakness. Pain is what makes you stronger… it doesn’t kill, right? She’d get over it in time, just… time. It seems clear to Salem that she has all the time in the world, yet she doesn’t… she doesn’t want it. The ghost wants to rip and tear and harm, yet she can’t bring herself to get up. She mourns. Salem will mourn for as long as it takes, for as long as any of this takes. The creature is allowed to tremble, and no one has disturbed her yet. No one has come for her, no one has told her to get up and come around. Silently, she aches for Pan to come and tell her she was being irrational. He doesn’t come. No one comes. Not for a long time. The ghost is alone, and maybe that’s her weakness. Brutus doesn’t come. The underserving queen, the orphaned son, the odd angel, the healer—none of them come. Maybe being lonesome is the best she can ask for right now, mourning in peace… what the hell was she playing at? Mourning couldn’t be peaceful. It was the feeling of the ripping apart of a soul. Inside her, something is screaming. Nothing has ever hurt this badly. And then things get worse. Whoop de fucking do. The creature’s hackles rise as the man comes near, breaking through the shadows. Salem couldn’t just—no. Not today. This wasn’t happening today. Her lips lift, revealing teeth as pale as the rest of her. No trembling. She’s strong and solid against the ground, drawn up and protective of the den that once belonged to the only woman that had ever bothered to attempt to mother the wayward youth. Her pale eyes fix clear on Tobias’s, a man who she didn’t yet have the name for. Imprinting was bullshit. Fate was bullshit. “Sea lion on the mainland is fresh.” And more than anything, she just wanted this creep out of her field of vision. Salem’s voice is raw, she hasn’t spoken in days. She’s cried, but she hasn’t spoken. The words feel funny on her tongue, like sandpaper, raw and rough. Her head spins too, and the world around her blurs only slightly. Still, the ghost makes no move to get up. Somewhere in her, she’s still holding onto the hope that the emerald eyed ghoul will just fuck off. salem. my name is blue canary |
Replies:
- :: He'll Only Break Your Heart :: - By Tobias May 13, 2013 at 06:12:21 AM
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