Diversions ;;Ky&Ty (Anatra)
Jan 18, 2014 20:45:38 GMT -5
Post by * on Jan 18, 2014 20:45:38 GMT -5
"Kyanite. Wake up, sis."
The voice of my brother wakes me up slightly as I turn over in my bed, letting my sore cheek rub against the fabic of my pillow. A groan instantly escapes me, my eyes opening, as I sit up in bed slowly and place a hand to my face. The gauze somehow pulled off in my restless night. I take to rubbing my eyes gently and escaping the bed, still feeling the stitches pulling on my stomach as I stretch and quickly stop.
"Kyanite. Are you up yet?" My brother's voice calls from down the hallway. As if he can hear my head nod, I give him the gesture. I begin my journey by walking to the bathroom down the hallway not far from my room. Although, it seems to take everything out of me this morning. I feel so tired and sore. The effects of the last few weeks really catching up to me since the aftermath of my fight last week. Though, my sleeping patterns has suffered some. The entire night, I kept waking up with nightmares of blood and screaming. Dreams of my own death by the hands of the one I've began to lov... like. One dream would be of me and Matthew fighting and I would fall, and another would be of him and Mark dueling it to the death and the moment I would try to reach him, he would fade away and his eyes would close. Each one would sent me into a shock, waking up without breath and a cold sweat to run down the back of my neck. I wipe furiously at my skin to reveal the dampness on it once again.
"Damnit..." I mutter to myself as I reach the bathroom door and shut it rather quietly. My shoulder moves against the door as it clicks, only to lean my back against it heavily a second later. I look to my right side staring directly into the one thing I've been avoiding since my fight; the mirror. Beside me on the wall, it screams at me to look for once. That's when I finally see my reflection for the first time. The mark against my face that stretches from just above my jaw line to be adjacent to my eye. Just seeing the redness that outlines the mark makes me want to cry. I had the stitches out just the other day, but today it shines bright red against my pale skin. The mark clearly defined where Marks blade took the first hit against me. The gash that took a part of me away. I shake my head and stare at my reflection for what seems like ages before my brother starts to pound on the door of the bathroom, making me jump.
"Breakfast is done, Kya. Come eat before you leave." He tells me, but I reply to him with a simple, 'No'. I can't eat right now. Not when the corners of my eyes begin to pool with salty tears at my reflection. The marks on my arm and stomach are nothing compared to the hideous sight on my face. Instantly, I begin searching for the supply of gauze that I've been having to use to wrap my arm with and neat square of the stuff and begin to cleanse the cut with the antiseptic. It stings like never before and not just because of the solution. I can't get it out of my mind how much this mark is going to mar me.
"Kya. Are you okay in there?" Once again, my brother's voice comes out to me and with a shaky voice, I reply to him vocally this time.
"No! I'm not." I barely get out to him as I open up the door to the bathroom to see his concern. His mouth dropping just slightly to see my face. Right before I opened the door, the tears had already began to fall. The redness around my eyes showing my dislike for my appearance. The one thing that has truely hurt me more than any of my other injuries I'd ever gotten before. "Look at me."
"Yes. I see. It looks like it's healing well." He states, but I shake my head at him and shove by him. Immediately, he grabs onto my shoulder gently, and turns me around. "It'll go away. Just wait and see."
"I'm going to pay Mark back for this. Until he knows what it feels like..." I hiss at him brother my brother pulls me closer to him to put a hand under my chin, raising my face up. I jerk to move my face away but he holds it quick and still in his grasp. I groan.
"It'll be alright Kya. It gives you character. It's shows you can move on after a fight after a defeat. You have proven yourself already... despite what dad says. YOu did good out there. Who cares what others think of the mark. It'll go away. Why do you feel you need to make Mark pay? It was just part of the fight. It happens..."
"Do you know what it feels like? To be marred for life? Permanently scarred... It'll never go away, Jeran. Every time I look in the mirror... You didn't even sign up for the pregames? You didn't even try. You have no right to brush this off as nothing. You have no clue what it's going to be like for me. You and dad..." He gives me a soft glare as he is trying to figure me out, but I don't give him another moment. I go straight to my room and change. I don't even care about the matching jacket to my pants, I just grab the warmest coat I can before I leave the house.
Walking seems to be about the only thing I can do without the use of my hands. Although it's been almost two weeks since my fight, my arms are still slightly useless. While my left arm is in the cast, my right has been through the ringer. Today though, I'm suppose to be getting the stitches out of my arm, and have the ones on my stomach checked. Halfway down the road, I realize I had forgotten to place a fresh bandage over my cheek, and while I pass several people in town, I try to hide the mark with the collar of my coat.
As I make my way into the hospital through the doors, I come into the hustle and bustle of a busy room. A few children sit with their parents while an older gentleman is the one that really looks the worst out of all of them. I give him a polite grin, still hiding the mark on my cheek and take my place waiting amongst them until my name is called.
"Kyanite Ruze." My name almost seems to make my a celebrity for some reason because two of the children instantly look to me and wave, while their parents stare at me. I know they had to have watched the games. As Gala had stated, I made myself into a celebrity but I hardly feel that way. The further I walk down the hallway, I keep my head down until the nurse leaves me on a chair in the hallway.
"I'm going to be right back for you, Kyanite. Let me grab the guy overseeing your care, and we'll get you to a room." She states, leaving me here in the hallway. I feel exposed.
The voice of my brother wakes me up slightly as I turn over in my bed, letting my sore cheek rub against the fabic of my pillow. A groan instantly escapes me, my eyes opening, as I sit up in bed slowly and place a hand to my face. The gauze somehow pulled off in my restless night. I take to rubbing my eyes gently and escaping the bed, still feeling the stitches pulling on my stomach as I stretch and quickly stop.
"Kyanite. Are you up yet?" My brother's voice calls from down the hallway. As if he can hear my head nod, I give him the gesture. I begin my journey by walking to the bathroom down the hallway not far from my room. Although, it seems to take everything out of me this morning. I feel so tired and sore. The effects of the last few weeks really catching up to me since the aftermath of my fight last week. Though, my sleeping patterns has suffered some. The entire night, I kept waking up with nightmares of blood and screaming. Dreams of my own death by the hands of the one I've began to lov... like. One dream would be of me and Matthew fighting and I would fall, and another would be of him and Mark dueling it to the death and the moment I would try to reach him, he would fade away and his eyes would close. Each one would sent me into a shock, waking up without breath and a cold sweat to run down the back of my neck. I wipe furiously at my skin to reveal the dampness on it once again.
"Damnit..." I mutter to myself as I reach the bathroom door and shut it rather quietly. My shoulder moves against the door as it clicks, only to lean my back against it heavily a second later. I look to my right side staring directly into the one thing I've been avoiding since my fight; the mirror. Beside me on the wall, it screams at me to look for once. That's when I finally see my reflection for the first time. The mark against my face that stretches from just above my jaw line to be adjacent to my eye. Just seeing the redness that outlines the mark makes me want to cry. I had the stitches out just the other day, but today it shines bright red against my pale skin. The mark clearly defined where Marks blade took the first hit against me. The gash that took a part of me away. I shake my head and stare at my reflection for what seems like ages before my brother starts to pound on the door of the bathroom, making me jump.
"Breakfast is done, Kya. Come eat before you leave." He tells me, but I reply to him with a simple, 'No'. I can't eat right now. Not when the corners of my eyes begin to pool with salty tears at my reflection. The marks on my arm and stomach are nothing compared to the hideous sight on my face. Instantly, I begin searching for the supply of gauze that I've been having to use to wrap my arm with and neat square of the stuff and begin to cleanse the cut with the antiseptic. It stings like never before and not just because of the solution. I can't get it out of my mind how much this mark is going to mar me.
"Kya. Are you okay in there?" Once again, my brother's voice comes out to me and with a shaky voice, I reply to him vocally this time.
"No! I'm not." I barely get out to him as I open up the door to the bathroom to see his concern. His mouth dropping just slightly to see my face. Right before I opened the door, the tears had already began to fall. The redness around my eyes showing my dislike for my appearance. The one thing that has truely hurt me more than any of my other injuries I'd ever gotten before. "Look at me."
"Yes. I see. It looks like it's healing well." He states, but I shake my head at him and shove by him. Immediately, he grabs onto my shoulder gently, and turns me around. "It'll go away. Just wait and see."
"I'm going to pay Mark back for this. Until he knows what it feels like..." I hiss at him brother my brother pulls me closer to him to put a hand under my chin, raising my face up. I jerk to move my face away but he holds it quick and still in his grasp. I groan.
"It'll be alright Kya. It gives you character. It's shows you can move on after a fight after a defeat. You have proven yourself already... despite what dad says. YOu did good out there. Who cares what others think of the mark. It'll go away. Why do you feel you need to make Mark pay? It was just part of the fight. It happens..."
"Do you know what it feels like? To be marred for life? Permanently scarred... It'll never go away, Jeran. Every time I look in the mirror... You didn't even sign up for the pregames? You didn't even try. You have no right to brush this off as nothing. You have no clue what it's going to be like for me. You and dad..." He gives me a soft glare as he is trying to figure me out, but I don't give him another moment. I go straight to my room and change. I don't even care about the matching jacket to my pants, I just grab the warmest coat I can before I leave the house.
Walking seems to be about the only thing I can do without the use of my hands. Although it's been almost two weeks since my fight, my arms are still slightly useless. While my left arm is in the cast, my right has been through the ringer. Today though, I'm suppose to be getting the stitches out of my arm, and have the ones on my stomach checked. Halfway down the road, I realize I had forgotten to place a fresh bandage over my cheek, and while I pass several people in town, I try to hide the mark with the collar of my coat.
As I make my way into the hospital through the doors, I come into the hustle and bustle of a busy room. A few children sit with their parents while an older gentleman is the one that really looks the worst out of all of them. I give him a polite grin, still hiding the mark on my cheek and take my place waiting amongst them until my name is called.
"Kyanite Ruze." My name almost seems to make my a celebrity for some reason because two of the children instantly look to me and wave, while their parents stare at me. I know they had to have watched the games. As Gala had stated, I made myself into a celebrity but I hardly feel that way. The further I walk down the hallway, I keep my head down until the nurse leaves me on a chair in the hallway.
"I'm going to be right back for you, Kyanite. Let me grab the guy overseeing your care, and we'll get you to a room." She states, leaving me here in the hallway. I feel exposed.
