reach for the window pane | {tori}
Jan 15, 2012 22:22:05 GMT -5
Post by chelsey on Jan 15, 2012 22:22:05 GMT -5
ambroseaisling
district ( o n e )
"It's too late, you're too late. Reach for the window pane. Look to our childhood for screws that are lose, don't we?"
Usually, parties are Ambrose Aisling's esque, but something about tonight ringed at her pale neck. The ornate walls choked the breath out of her, the loud music screamed at her sensitive ears, the sight of people dancing clawed at her eyes. It's one of those moments, again, she told herself as she felt droplets of sweat layer the back of her neck. The painter needed to find sanity in the midst of all this turmoil, and she needed to find it quick.
By moments, Ambrose meant her claustrophobia getting the best out of her. Of course, there were medications for this, but the disease seemed to glint mischievously in the most unexpected of times. Well, it was either unexpected or unwanted.
Ambrose arrived at tonight's party with every intention of dancing her worries away - literally. Not that she even had a worry to spare, this year's Reaping was over, and she hasn't been pickedto her parents' dissapointment. But, to her own secret pleasure, she was glad that she has survived yet another year. Her Reaping ages were dying out, and soon, her parents' fantasies of "Ambrose Aisling the Victor" would die as well.
Of course, happiness is only ever short lived, and within an hour of arriving to the party, all thoughts of dancing and partying vanished.
Most of the people in the crowded room were familiar, so it was hard to escape the scene with everyone constantly greeting and chitchatting with her.
Her chance came in the form of a neon green sign labeled "EXIT," and she covered her face as she ran towards the door, hoping no one would catch sight of her.
The door led to a balcony with a spiral stair case leading to the ground. The building in which the party was held was a high one - a towering one at that. Luckily, Ambrose contained no fear of heights. Besides, the breathtaking view would've distracted anyone from the fact of how high up they were. But, unluckily, for Ambrose, this particular moment prevented her from even noticing the gorgeous sight. Her blonde, curled hair unwinded from it's previous bun updo - random strands of gold falling down to her mid back. Irritatingly, she pulled at the pearl clips that held her hair together and felt her them tumble down to it's full length. The fifteen year old's black, regal dress was wrinkled from her running - it wasn't meant for much physical activity. With her trembling hands, she smoothed out the crumples before place her hands on her hips. A gust of cold air swept around Ambrose, but she didn't shrink back from the wind, even when the hair on her arms stood up from the lack of warmth. The frigid temperature brought her senses back to her, and she inhaled it deeply, her body shuddering at the exhale. She paced in small circles, her heels clicking the marbled floors. Calm down, Ambrose, she told herself repeatedly. Nothing's trying to trap you.
The anxiety was evident in her expression, and no matter how hard she tried, the flutters from her stomach wouldn't disappear, and the chattering of her teeth would not go away.
No one's out to get you, She lamented. No one's out to get you.