theme

TREPIATION; mary&hana

inelegantal:

   Trotting down this very same path soon became almost routine for the young girl. A step taken into what always feels like the unknown, a breath released, courage mustered as another attempted was about to be made. As much as this island strove to emulate normalcy, nothing could conceal the gloomy atmosphere it seemed to uphold.

   Being so lost in thought, she hadn’t noticed the person in her direct path. Hitting them with a bang, she ended up on the ground before she knew it. Eyes dragged downward as her pink hued gaze focused on dainty hands as they laid upon her lap. Completely embarrassed, the young girl began to speak.

   ❝ I-I’m sorry for running into you! ❞ stammered Mary, hopping up from the ground and smoothing out her dress.

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   ❝ I-I should have been paying attention. I’m sorry! ❞

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                  }

Flurry of cries are expected, and
given with a displaced nod    
unattached and disembodied,
as if it’s an afterthought. She,
in truth, doesn’t hear them. How
can she? A mute-deaf of years
past, she observes body-language 
and normal responses, not
sounds. Thus, though rude it may
be, girl merely continues search
for notebook and writing utensil
scattered to the far reaches of
path.

                                                           Notebook may have been
                                                           easy to locate, but pen was a
                                                           different matter. Times such
                                                           as these, it was wished that it
                                                           wasn’t so very tiny and easy
                                                           to misplace. Hands scour the
                                                            floor while eyes look dutifully
                                                           onwards, but, alas, to no avail.

A sigh will have to part lips.

TREPIATION; mary&hana

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                  }

A sickness had fallen upon her
lungs to determine loss of comfort   
or, rather, what little there was
to be had in such a dangerous 
environment. The correct use of
definition in form of safety was
non-existent in the building and
it’s various locations, replaced
with a large amount of fear and
worry characteristic and resigned
to graveyard expeditions.

                                                                   But, there was nothing the girl
                                                                   could do about the matter; there
                                                                    was nothing she wanted to do.

So she would do nothing, merely
sit, wait, walk, and   

                                                                   The collision of her hurrying footsteps
                                                                   with another’s was undesirable in
                                                                   any circumstance. In this one?
                                                                   Even more so, possibly taking the
                                                                   level to heights of which never
                                                                    seen before. But she would simply
                                                                   apologize, move on, move on from it
                                                                   and look for the notebook scattered
                                                                   to the floor from the impact.

But where…?