Nov. 25th, 2008
[MM] Stone angel
Nov. 25th, 2008 05:30 pmPicture prompt
There is something terribly wrong with her.
There has to be. No one sane finds so much comfort and solace in a moonlit cemetery. No one in their right mind would prefer the company of marble slabs, old bones beneath the dirt, concrete angels in poses of eternal mourning and black-hearted creatures of the night to their flesh and blood friends and family.
There is something terribly wrong with her, because she does. Often.
They make very poor friends, those marble slabs, those bones, those angels, but the best listeners. Forever mute and sightless, they bear no witness to her battles with monsters, the flares of tempers and fury she will allow to be unleashed upon them, her tears of frustration, or pain. They cannot judge her, or blame her, or comfort her with false hopes and promises that everything will be all right. They don't ask her which cup is overflowing and threatening to drown her, merely let her pour and pour and pour.
The graveyards are her battlefield, her therapy couch, her safe house, her escape.
And just as much as all of this, they are also her prison, and those angels her ever vigilant wardens, until the night comes that they will watch her fall for the last time.
1. What curse word do you use the most?
Damn. In English, at least.
2. Do you own an iPod?
And cannot live without it.
3. What person on your flist do you talk to the most?
Julian.
4. What time is your alarm clock set to?
...Excuse me while I laugh. Ha. Ha ha ha.
5. Do you still remember the first person you kissed?
Yep.
( Read more... )
Damn. In English, at least.
2. Do you own an iPod?
And cannot live without it.
3. What person on your flist do you talk to the most?
Julian.
4. What time is your alarm clock set to?
...Excuse me while I laugh. Ha. Ha ha ha.
5. Do you still remember the first person you kissed?
Yep.
( Read more... )