Semi-Automatic { Dee | Train | Blitz }
Sept 27, 2015 23:04:39 GMT -5
Post by flyss on Sept 27, 2015 23:04:39 GMT -5
DRAGON-BREATH
Night falls, with gravity.
The earth turns, from sanity
Taking my only friend I know,
He leaves a lie, his name is "Hope".
The earth turns, from sanity
Taking my only friend I know,
He leaves a lie, his name is "Hope".
If I were to come home in a week with a coffin as my only accompaniment, I couldn't say that it was a first for me; this train, albeit comfortable, is a cage, not a luxury. After all, when you're nothing but entertainment, it doesn't matter how terribly trapped you feel because that's the point of it- to feel cornered, and alone, and h e l p l e s s .
By the timeCharlie Zoe Chloe makes her way onto the train, I've accepted a small glass of juice from an avox with blonde hair, and my legs have begun diminishing into a sea full of pinpricks. I smile politely, because that was how I was raised, but there is no sincerity behind my actions aside from the pity that plays tag within my eyes. My fingers sign a quick salutations.
Hey.
It feels weird to talk to someone that you've watched panic, but I'm sure the feeling is mutual, when you're in the shoes of the panic-er, rather than the audience. Pushing the thought of earlier today out of my head, I press my lips into a thin line and scoot over, giving her room next to me to come sit if she wishes.
I might not be of much conversation, but I sure as hell make good company when you want nothing but presence and could care less about speech.
My eyes travel from her face, to her legs, to the floor and I soon find myself staring at my reflection in the glass that I hold with a white-knuckled tight grip. I'm a mess, I think to myself before bringing my lips to the rim and drinking, a small part of me wishing that this was liquor instead of juice. But I'm only just a kid, I remind myself. I'm only just a kid, I repeat to myself until the half-filled glass falls from my fingers and smashes to the ground with an ear-curdling shatter that feels too fake for it to be real.
A kid, I conclude as I look from the shards up to my district partner, no absolute expression falling victim to my face, with nothing but his life on the line.
By the time
Hey.
It feels weird to talk to someone that you've watched panic, but I'm sure the feeling is mutual, when you're in the shoes of the panic-er, rather than the audience. Pushing the thought of earlier today out of my head, I press my lips into a thin line and scoot over, giving her room next to me to come sit if she wishes.
I might not be of much conversation, but I sure as hell make good company when you want nothing but presence and could care less about speech.
My eyes travel from her face, to her legs, to the floor and I soon find myself staring at my reflection in the glass that I hold with a white-knuckled tight grip. I'm a mess, I think to myself before bringing my lips to the rim and drinking, a small part of me wishing that this was liquor instead of juice. But I'm only just a kid, I remind myself. I'm only just a kid, I repeat to myself until the half-filled glass falls from my fingers and smashes to the ground with an ear-curdling shatter that feels too fake for it to be real.
A kid, I conclude as I look from the shards up to my district partner, no absolute expression falling victim to my face, with nothing but his life on the line.
