shadowscrossbar

[shadowscrossbar]

Frightening things begin to happen the more you engage with a hypothetical heart.

[shadowscrossbar]

oh to be a little cat and sit in a windowsill

[shadowscrossbar]

i've grown used to being the only thing that lurks around in the dark, but it wasn't always that way, and i miss my others. i miss my body. my solitary is not its problem, i just wish i had more information on why it keeps coming here specifically. in that body.

[shadowscrossbar]

it blows through, and makes a complete mess of the place.

[shadowscrossbar]

i do wish it would stop breaking in.

but what does that say about me? i've gotten used to the emptiness? the lack of others? do i want that?

[shadowscrossbar]

[shadowscrossbar]

i know you tekras, but you don't know me.

i wouldn't be able to know, though, being a terror isn't all that bad. people make it out to be worse than it is. perhaps you would like it.

"= one of those floaty wiggly things up there in the dark. i get it. i mean i don't believe it but i think it would be cool to be one of those even for a moment. not sure what that does to a mindset though i've not got the strongest pan out there. ="

[shadowscrossbar]

it can be enjoyable if you like to be alone.

"= one of those floaty wiggly things up there in the dark. i get it. i mean i don't believe it but i think it would be cool to be one of those even for a moment. not sure what that does to a mindset though i've not got the strongest pan out there. ="

[shadowscrossbar]

[shadowscrossbar]

[shadowscrossbar]

==> From something to nothing.

It felt almost like sburb, in the way it riled you up like a crazy animal. "Feeling" was never your thing, it's not that you were above the notion, you just literally didn't. At least you didn't before. You've come to realize that your hosts emotions have a massive impact on your own, and you needed John as much as she needed you. That was your body, YOUR ticket out, you played fair, you stuck to the rules, and you waited out the light. It could only burn for so long. She was yours, and you were hers. You weren't just going to lie around and wait for him to give her back.

The sticky notes he riddled her character chart sheets with were thick, so thick you could barely hear her or anyone else from your little hole in the universe. They were bright yellow, illuminating from both sides, and had a bunch of cheesy, painful descriptions written in red. He was trying to force her back to normal, he was trying to "fix" her. Your initial pulling of the notes became ripping, cutting. You tore them down like a wild animal, at first for her sake, worried about what this was doing to her psyche, worried about what Jury might be doing without keeping an eye on him. But half way through, days in, it became about you. No longer were you focused on Johns safety but your own.

It was notes and notes that felt like they'd never end. Like you're digging your own grave in tissue paper. Your finger nails would rip them in two, causing them to flutter to the floor and vanish, burning into the nothing that follows you. It stopped feeling like this was just to make John more like her old self, and more like a ploy to keep you away from her. He was trying to take your body AGAIN, lock you away behind walls of lies and pretend AGAIN. Anger boiled within you like hot oil, you imagined the paper as Juno himself, tearing open his soft flesh and throwing it directly into a massive fire, burning him into nothing but ash.

"JOHN"

You could hear him, and Jury. You couldn't make out what they were saying but their voices cool you like water being doused on coals. Hope sputters like a sharp spur in your chest, twisting itself up. With the last notes, you pull delicately, as if pulling hairs from Johns own head. You worry about ripping holes you'd carefully built back up and replaced, worrying about what may happen if you accidentally rip holes in her psyche.

"John! John, can you hear me?"

One by one those evil sticky notes are plucked away, and he hopes she feels something like a clear head. A cool breeze, now that all the new, unwanted insulation is gone. You aren't impervious. In comparison to other terrors, you were only a little terror, and Juno's notes hurt your hands, they were hot, daring to blister. You hope her insides aren't soup. You hope that the extent of the injuries end at your hands.

@edgarallen-foe

[shadowscrossbar]

i'm working on it.

on the things that can be worked on.

its a slow process. they are littering her pages.

this is my character. you let her go and i took your left overs.

you can't make her some thing she isn't any more.

[shadowscrossbar]

you can't "fix" him with a temporary solution.

[shadowscrossbar]

there is sticky notes just... every where. i'm surprised a single thought is even getting through him.

[shadowscrossbar]

what did he do.

[shadowscrossbar]

[shadowscrossbar]

⋆✴︎˚。⋆ 🐟🎣🎏 ⋆。˚✴︎⋆