from the moment she sat down beside her in the mud. from the moment she heard the girl’s soft voice, it felt like she could finally hear her own thoughts. as if by the simple presence of the odd haired female would be enough to stop the crashing waves in her head, even for a moment; it was quiet. although she was coiled up, she still looked at the woman beside her; bruises up and down her limbs, dark circles that seem to never fade, the layers and layers of make up trying to cover it up. even down to the smeared red lipstick. it was like she was looking at what she felt inside. was this woman simply an illusion? a figment of her own brain, personifying the crazy she felt? ❝ you have english accent. ❞ she whispered softly, voice cracking at the amount of screams, raw from it all. the messy hair, she was hardly the image of an heiress that she once was. ❝ it’s nice. reminds me of home. ❞
the way she explained it. as if it was easy as simply closing a door, to talk to the voices that mocked her, that told her so many awful things, that wanted to do AWFUL HORRIBLE THINGS. wincing, she gripped her hair tightly and buried her face into her knees. she wanted it to be over. she was getting good, the voices were quiet for more than a couple of minutes–why did they have to come back!? ❝ when i’m some place else, they are louder, they get more clever. i can’t let them hurt anyone. i don’t want to hurt anyone. i just want to be free from all this. i didn’t ask for this. ❞ hands trembling, she winced at the pain as she confessed for the first time since she wrote letters to adam about how she felt. but even in letters, she could hide how bad it was getting. ❝ i just don’t want them to comeback. i want to be normal. ❞
she looks at the girl in front of her, biting the inside of her lower lip as she does so. SHE LOOKS LIKE WHAT A BAD DAY FEELS LIKE. those days when scarlett wants nothing more than to lie down in bed, wants nothing more than to curl up, to see no one, to talk to no one. those days when she has no strength, no will, no emotions. those days when she is EMPTY, VOID, GODFORSAKEN — isn’t that what you always are, though? she blinks a couple of times, and loses her words. ❛ y’ —– y’ sound POSH. ❜ she sounds like home, too. she sounds painfully british, and you know that. she reminds you of the news, of the queen, of your teachers. she reminds you of happiness. ❛ me dad would like tha’ way y’ sound. ❜
scarlett looks at her, reaching out without even noticing. she puts her hand on the girl’s arm, a soft touch, somehow looking to be REASSURING more than anything else, looking to bring her some kind of comfort. ❛ they can’t be smar’er than y’, tho. y’ can’t FORGET that. they’re inside you. they’re a PART of you. ❜ scarlett knows this because she’s OUT OF IT. she knows this because she’s crazy, she’s BATSHIT, she’s bonkers. ❛ wha’ keeps them from hurting others here, tho? y’ see strangers every day. y’ in DANGER out here. ❜ she takes her hand away, looking at her hands and she plays with her fingers. ❛ all the best people are CRAZY. don’t y’ know? ❜