with your thoughts {gabrielle + rowan}
Jun 5, 2015 2:13:54 GMT -5
Post by ✨ zozo. on Jun 5, 2015 2:13:54 GMT -5
ROWAN COMBE
[presto]  OH YOU GO TO SLEEP ON YOUR OWN AND YOU WAKE EACH DAY WITH YOUR THOUGHTS AND IT SCARES YOU BEING ALONE IT'S A LAST RESORT |
This place is exhausting.
A tumble of experts and amateurs and those in-between, I fall graciously at the end of the talented scale. All around me is death coated in luxury - the sharpest knives, the heaviest bludgeons, the highest ropes. There's an itching in my fingers that wants to climb the obstacles until I can touch the roof but there it dances at the edge of my mind - fear. Never leaving. Keeping me awake. There is constant noise and I am being ripped from my mind by jolts of fear only to realise that nobody is trying to hunt me down. (Yet).
Last night was surprisingly easy. When I fell into the sheets at the end of the long, long day I imagined I could smell Gavin. (I realised in an instant that I'd forgotten what he smelt like, or if I even knew that to begin with.) It didn't. They smelt of floral chemicals and satin, stripped of any trace that told a story of another damned to their death far too young. Sickening thoughts kept me awake but I'm used to a lack of sleep and an abundance of hauntings. Strangely comfortable, I soldiered through the night.
I am exhausted, so I fall out of the clockwork patterns of the training centre and observe from the sidelines. A blonde girl, looking like she belongs among the least menacing of the other females I had encountered so far, seemed to be the best choice of resting partners. Making friends was supposed to get you through this thing alive. (I wonder, for a moment, if we'll be friends for a short while.)
"It's madness, isn't it?" I say, placing myself beside her, limbs thankful for a break. "All of this..."
Chaos.♠
