ellerie tibideaux ‣ ten ‣ cbd2

E L L E R I E
15, 10, female

One pole hammer was enough to take a life and break a heart. Dragged down by Kitty Keeni's claws, she became a tragedy. A tale of misfortune and disaster documented beneath her name—("Tibideaux")—following her, stalking her. Looming around each corner like a foe ready to strike until eventually; it does and there is nothing to mourn but a memory.

Saddened by a sacrifice made for the satisfaction of the never satisfied. Gore was smudged, and so it became their glory.

I've never been one to argue with fate. I don't think of it, or question it. But when one girl is half the world away, part of me wants to breathe fire and kick and scream and maul it. I fear for the future still; history was made to be repeat itself. The return of another body in a box only gave flesh wound a new meaning.

Slash on my brain—a collector of scars.

Humanity may have killed my sisters, but time is what murders the fond moments we shared.

They are my ghosts. Wounded by the clock, I look at them and see myself. In mannerism and appearance—I am them captured in time and forced to dance as the music roars on. As if I am caught in a nightmare and strings are sewn to my limbs. Inside, I feel nothing but a mechanical beat.

Despite finding every inch of them in my system and skin, I promise myself to be not be like them. Not a fighter, never a fighter—only a survivor of a storm which, now, is but a whisper. Two sparkles glow bright now the clouds have passed, and so I smile, if only for a moment.

All they wanted was to be together, each to be with a sister—but why did they forget about me?