the second time I meant
Characters: Grell and open
Date: November 11th.
Summary: Property damage to Beaumont and lots of emotions.
Warnings: If anything pops up, I'll edit it.
It wasn't fair. None of it was fair, life wasn't fair, this she knew. And yet she couldn't shove down the anger that came with remembering, couldn't shut off her emotions like she had before while she tried to beat her consciousness into submission. They burned too brightly for her to touch. Sickening, and yet overwhelming the moment she happened to glance towards the right door.
Quiet. Too quiet. There was no sound, no anything to distract her, nothing that absorbed her enough so she would be able to hide from herself for a bit longer. She paused on the stairs, gripping the banister, feeling it hint at breaking, snapping, if only she would give it more force.
Her hand touched the wall briefly, and it didn't matter what lay behind it, in the next moment she was punching it, causing destruction, pouring everything, everything into breaking and harming the house. It was hers, she could do as she liked, and it would take the damage. She cared not for who would hear, what they would think, what effort she would need to fix everything she was shattering, all that mattered was that there was tangible evidence of her pain. The invisible audience would not be moved by silent tears. They wanted passion, and she would give it. Walls, windows, everywhere but that room was going to be victim to her destruction. Months of playing nice, of being a good girl who only hurt creatures that struck first wove into the grief of this final indignation, and physical pain vanished from her awareness.
Why wasn't she allowed to keep people that made her happy? Why were only the smallest crumbs of time allotted to her to understand what joy was? They died, or they left, or they loved her not. A walking omen of tragedy for everything she touched. Pathetic.
All she had was her strength left to her. Let it show. If the house would fall around her, so be it. Everything was destruction, was a sickly sort of red that she would break into deeper, more beautiful shades of the same hue. Let it go on.
Date: November 11th.
Summary: Property damage to Beaumont and lots of emotions.
Warnings: If anything pops up, I'll edit it.
It wasn't fair. None of it was fair, life wasn't fair, this she knew. And yet she couldn't shove down the anger that came with remembering, couldn't shut off her emotions like she had before while she tried to beat her consciousness into submission. They burned too brightly for her to touch. Sickening, and yet overwhelming the moment she happened to glance towards the right door.
Quiet. Too quiet. There was no sound, no anything to distract her, nothing that absorbed her enough so she would be able to hide from herself for a bit longer. She paused on the stairs, gripping the banister, feeling it hint at breaking, snapping, if only she would give it more force.
Her hand touched the wall briefly, and it didn't matter what lay behind it, in the next moment she was punching it, causing destruction, pouring everything, everything into breaking and harming the house. It was hers, she could do as she liked, and it would take the damage. She cared not for who would hear, what they would think, what effort she would need to fix everything she was shattering, all that mattered was that there was tangible evidence of her pain. The invisible audience would not be moved by silent tears. They wanted passion, and she would give it. Walls, windows, everywhere but that room was going to be victim to her destruction. Months of playing nice, of being a good girl who only hurt creatures that struck first wove into the grief of this final indignation, and physical pain vanished from her awareness.
Why wasn't she allowed to keep people that made her happy? Why were only the smallest crumbs of time allotted to her to understand what joy was? They died, or they left, or they loved her not. A walking omen of tragedy for everything she touched. Pathetic.
All she had was her strength left to her. Let it show. If the house would fall around her, so be it. Everything was destruction, was a sickly sort of red that she would break into deeper, more beautiful shades of the same hue. Let it go on.