^Tavora^Vanni^D6 [FIN]
Jul 29, 2014 21:23:14 GMT -5
Post by Loony on Jul 29, 2014 21:23:14 GMT -5
If these wings could fly
District 6 | 17 |
Hospital Patient | Kelly Knox |
Tavora Vanni
The halls of the hospital are collapsing. They crumble as one, sending the dust of her room into the air. The dust pushes it way into her lungs, suffocating her. Panic grows in the pit of her stomach. It blossoms within seconds, consuming her sanity and making her descend into a land where the walls of darkness don't collapse as easily as the plaster walls of the hospital where she resides. And with a gasp Tavora opens her glaring blue-sea eyes, into a reality not to different than her dream.
Tavora is the dot in the corner of a your eye, always just out of reach. She is the gentle breeze that is gone before you recognize her presence. But she was once a grand piece of art that you couldn't look away from. She used to be a hurricane that demanded your attention. Tavora Vanni is a wooden sculpture burned into a pile of charcoal. No longer great, no longer demanding, just a ghost of a girl, who happens to be missing a limb.
Tavora had wonderful dreams. She would imagine juggling clowns and cartwheeling ballerina, and wake up into a world where people tried to make these dreams come true. Deirdre and Michael Vanni weren't her parents; they were known to be terrible liars. They decided early on to make Tavora aware that she was adopted. They let her know that she was left on their steps, but still treated her as though she wasn't. Deirdre figured early who was Tavora's mother, some one who was aware of her and her husband's infertility, but choose to keep that particular detail a secret. It was okay for the girl to know she was abandoned, but not to know who abandoned her.
Like the waterfalls of the jungles, the night her innocence was lost Tavora was loud and powerful. The source of her anger has long been forgotten, all that remains is the loud smack of her door as she threw a tantrum, and the loud howling of the wind outside. Later they would say the house was built on an unsound foundation. But in the moment it seemed as though the world was collapsing around the young 10 year old. Later they said it was a miracle she survived. They found the blond haired form almost 3 hours after the house imploded, but they didn't find Tavora Vanni, the girl who dreamed of clowns, ballerinas and magicians, they found some one else.
As the plaster found itself into ever inch of her body, Tavora ran, trying to find her parents as her entire life fell apart. The halls that once seemed like home now appeared to be an unsolvable labyrinth. Nothing brought her closer towards her mothers voice crying out her name. Then the floor gave out, finally bringing mother and daughter together. Deirdre landed a few feet away, beneath a brick wall, while her daughter landed only to have rubble collapse and send flaming nails of pain through her arm. It took her seconds to realize her arm was shattered, and minutes to realize her mother was dying. Deirdre struggled, pushing against the rubble in a fruitless attempt to free herself. Her lungs were crushed, unable to take in the required oxygen. Her mouth gapped, like a fish, opening and closing, opening and closing. Her eyes locked on the girl who lay feet away, trying to crawl to her, to help, the only thing stopping her is her arm crushed beneath rubble. In her last moment Deirdre wanted to tell Tavora everything, she wanted to relieve herself of all the secrets, but the blue of asphyxiation made its way upon her lips, ensuring the girl who she loved like a daughter would never be happy again.
Tavora weeped, what girl wouldn't? Her adopted mother's dead eyes pierced her very soul. They were accusative and unforgiving. There was no love from the dead. Instead they were mean twisted creatures who rose only to whisper words of hatred. In the hours after her mother's death Tavora spent her time trying to pull her arm out from underneath a pile of past memories. The shards of glass could be from a family picture, where the smiles were not forced, and the love occurred in its purest form. The bricks could be from the fireplace, where the warmth of her parents was felt the most. Everything trapping her was part of a world no longer. It was from a world that left Tavora behind, disappearing the moment the house gave out. She resented it, and damned it all to hell. The world never loved her, so she refused to love it back.
Saying that the next few years treated Tavora well would be to generous. She was placed in a simple orphanage, where chores were expected to be done, but punishment was not too harsh. These things didn't have a big affect on the girl who grew an inch every few months. Nothing did, because the girl with hallowed cheeks and a fat stump for a hand was too quiet. She shuffled through the room in silence, rebuked any attempt at socializing, and slowly grew withdrawn. Her mind imagined scenarios where happiness never occurred, dark areas devoid of anything that made one feel good was gone. She travelled to these places on broken wings, her one good arm pulling the stump behind it. Tavora Vanni died the same day as her parents. Tavora Vanni was a creature reborn, no longer dragged down by false joy and artificial love.
They took her to the hospital. The walls were to similar to the ones of a prison, the people too happy for their own good, the patients seemed more crazed than her. She did not like or dislike it. But not disliking something was a step forward for Tavora. The darkness seeped away a tiny bit when at this hospital wing. The patients were also butterflies with broken wings; they may have even been shattered completely. Her head was clearer, more focussed, and she could finally see something resembling a light. She still didn't speak, words were not something she took lightly, but she knew she had found a home.
For Tavora Vanni, a home was a place where she was fixed by other broken toys.
Word Count: 1043
Tavora is the dot in the corner of a your eye, always just out of reach. She is the gentle breeze that is gone before you recognize her presence. But she was once a grand piece of art that you couldn't look away from. She used to be a hurricane that demanded your attention. Tavora Vanni is a wooden sculpture burned into a pile of charcoal. No longer great, no longer demanding, just a ghost of a girl, who happens to be missing a limb.
Tavora had wonderful dreams. She would imagine juggling clowns and cartwheeling ballerina, and wake up into a world where people tried to make these dreams come true. Deirdre and Michael Vanni weren't her parents; they were known to be terrible liars. They decided early on to make Tavora aware that she was adopted. They let her know that she was left on their steps, but still treated her as though she wasn't. Deirdre figured early who was Tavora's mother, some one who was aware of her and her husband's infertility, but choose to keep that particular detail a secret. It was okay for the girl to know she was abandoned, but not to know who abandoned her.
Like the waterfalls of the jungles, the night her innocence was lost Tavora was loud and powerful. The source of her anger has long been forgotten, all that remains is the loud smack of her door as she threw a tantrum, and the loud howling of the wind outside. Later they would say the house was built on an unsound foundation. But in the moment it seemed as though the world was collapsing around the young 10 year old. Later they said it was a miracle she survived. They found the blond haired form almost 3 hours after the house imploded, but they didn't find Tavora Vanni, the girl who dreamed of clowns, ballerinas and magicians, they found some one else.
As the plaster found itself into ever inch of her body, Tavora ran, trying to find her parents as her entire life fell apart. The halls that once seemed like home now appeared to be an unsolvable labyrinth. Nothing brought her closer towards her mothers voice crying out her name. Then the floor gave out, finally bringing mother and daughter together. Deirdre landed a few feet away, beneath a brick wall, while her daughter landed only to have rubble collapse and send flaming nails of pain through her arm. It took her seconds to realize her arm was shattered, and minutes to realize her mother was dying. Deirdre struggled, pushing against the rubble in a fruitless attempt to free herself. Her lungs were crushed, unable to take in the required oxygen. Her mouth gapped, like a fish, opening and closing, opening and closing. Her eyes locked on the girl who lay feet away, trying to crawl to her, to help, the only thing stopping her is her arm crushed beneath rubble. In her last moment Deirdre wanted to tell Tavora everything, she wanted to relieve herself of all the secrets, but the blue of asphyxiation made its way upon her lips, ensuring the girl who she loved like a daughter would never be happy again.
Tavora weeped, what girl wouldn't? Her adopted mother's dead eyes pierced her very soul. They were accusative and unforgiving. There was no love from the dead. Instead they were mean twisted creatures who rose only to whisper words of hatred. In the hours after her mother's death Tavora spent her time trying to pull her arm out from underneath a pile of past memories. The shards of glass could be from a family picture, where the smiles were not forced, and the love occurred in its purest form. The bricks could be from the fireplace, where the warmth of her parents was felt the most. Everything trapping her was part of a world no longer. It was from a world that left Tavora behind, disappearing the moment the house gave out. She resented it, and damned it all to hell. The world never loved her, so she refused to love it back.
Saying that the next few years treated Tavora well would be to generous. She was placed in a simple orphanage, where chores were expected to be done, but punishment was not too harsh. These things didn't have a big affect on the girl who grew an inch every few months. Nothing did, because the girl with hallowed cheeks and a fat stump for a hand was too quiet. She shuffled through the room in silence, rebuked any attempt at socializing, and slowly grew withdrawn. Her mind imagined scenarios where happiness never occurred, dark areas devoid of anything that made one feel good was gone. She travelled to these places on broken wings, her one good arm pulling the stump behind it. Tavora Vanni died the same day as her parents. Tavora Vanni was a creature reborn, no longer dragged down by false joy and artificial love.
They took her to the hospital. The walls were to similar to the ones of a prison, the people too happy for their own good, the patients seemed more crazed than her. She did not like or dislike it. But not disliking something was a step forward for Tavora. The darkness seeped away a tiny bit when at this hospital wing. The patients were also butterflies with broken wings; they may have even been shattered completely. Her head was clearer, more focussed, and she could finally see something resembling a light. She still didn't speak, words were not something she took lightly, but she knew she had found a home.
For Tavora Vanni, a home was a place where she was fixed by other broken toys.
Word Count: 1043
HAYANA OF CAUTION 2.0
