Post by thingone on Aug 10, 2011 11:32:07 GMT -5
like flowers in december
[/color]"She'll kiss you like a virgin and slice you like a knife," Syria crooned under her breath, tugging on her shirt with fingers that were trembling slightly. There was a dimness in her eyes that would be clearly spotted the moment her gaze met the stare of someone else, fuzzy and unfocused. Her words were slurring together, the song lyrics pouring through her mouth even though they were words that she wished to bury and smother. Kyrie had never liked Syria's taste in music but would have always joined along when she broke out into the song Los Angeles. Porcelain and the Tramps, that had been their band and Syria hadn't sang a single song of theirs for four years.
Everything was so wrecked at the moment.
Her feet were clumsily carrying her along the shoreline of the lake, her mind too preoccupied with the past to be considered reliable. Behind the mess of a girl the sun was setting, casting a reddish glow on her whitish hair and giving the impression of a halo. Syria sure as hell didn't feel angelic or anything at the moment. If there was ever the chance that the Bennett girl had been an angel then her wings had been brutally ripped from her back four years ago. She let a sound that eerily resembled a choked sob, a cry. Her sisters never broke down, at least not in the way that Syria could see. Her emotions were too bottled up, soon enough she was going to explode.
"Dammit, Kyrie. Why do you have to make me miss you?"
There was a reason why Syria Bennett had wandered out to the more deserted part of the lake. Initially she had been located close to the castle, only glancing out at the lake. "C'mon, Syrie. Let's go to the lake. Remember how we used to love to swim? You always looked the best in a bikini.""[/color] Her thirteen year old, very deceased, best friend had whispered to her softly. What was the more surprising part was that Syria had easily listened to the invisible Kyrie, lifting herself from the ground and mechanically guiding herself closer to the lake and down the shore. Kyrie had been invading her thoughts lately, since she had been attempting to ween herself from her dependency of antidepressants.
"It was always so sweet when you sang, Syr,[/color] she cooed, her raspy voice causing Syria's hair to stand on end. After a four year void without Kyrie it was overwhelming to hear her speak again. "You have more talents then you know."[/color] She was chilled to the bone but obediently she had began to sing Kyrie's favorite song. Giggles bounced on the inside of her skull, the distinct laugh that could always be matched with Kyrie Warren.
A moment of clarity seemed to fall upon Syria, a wave of color sparking in her eyes. Shaky fingers reached up and resorted to a habit that somehow relieved the damaged girl's stress. Yanking hard on her hair caused her to yelp but the frantic giggling dissipated from her mind. "You're bloody dead, Kyrie![/color] Syria was howling at the top of her lungs, telling her that the louder she spoke the more her point would come across. Images from Kyrie's funeral made her cringe. Her eyes squeezed tightly shut, which was no wonder why she caught her foot against her leg and nearly went tumbling forward. "I killed you. Just leave me the hell alone!"[/color] Her voice had grown shrill and her hands were tangled into her hair. Kyrie was gone. She had no right to be trying to invade her life and upset the imperfect balance that had been created.
Something that sounded like an unsatisfied huff sounded from inside of her. Syria almost shook her head fiercely, thinking that would remove the strange voice from her head. It wasn't normal to hear someone deceased speaking in your mind, then again Syria Bennett was far from normal. "How can you say that, Syr? We're supposed to be best friends forever. You should be happy that I haven't left!"[/color] Kyrie sounded upset, much like that immature fourteen she had been before Syria had placed her hands around her neck. Syria was numb now, the sound of voice causing ice to quickly bloom on her insides.
She needed her pills, now.
"There is no bloody fucking way that you are real! You don't even have a body! Just get out of my head!"[/color] Hollering to herself, that made her seem very sane. Her legs had been affected by the ice, growing cold and heavy. Syria dropped down to the ground, legs folded under her. "I get that I'm a monster, I live with the bloody memories everyday!"[/color] Tears soon erupted, her makeup quickly becoming smeared and leaving lovely tracks down her paled face.
She would never be able to escape.
Open ,
814 words ,
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