CLOSED || Thespidershighness

Shock was a myth, Solaria discovered, or perhaps it was a privilege, a luxury she could not afford, for as she dragged herself aimlessly through unknown territory, the nerve-numbing adrenaline had all but evaporated; every neuron within her broken body was ablaze with a pain so great she prayed for the spoils of death with each dreadful beat of her continuing existence. As though the synthetic concept of time, which she had never been granted, was a gift reserved only for those wealthy in luck, every second trudged by in an eternity. How many lifetimes already had she relived such cruel torment? Her world may have crumbled down about her, but what was perhaps most grievous was her own body's betrayal of protection. The whole of her right side suffered a tremendous hurt; her shoulder hung loose, loose bones within her chest chafing, sheering, scraping, poking, stabbing with each wretched breath she drew. Disjointed was her hip as her shoulder, her femur, a part of her own body, now a source of great torment, rolled freely under her skin, jabbing muscle tissue. Both her knee and ankle throbbed, swollen and deeply bruised. Solaria's emaciated form had little to absorb the shock, and thus her body had been so greatly damaged. Her dress, once white but now greyed and torn and singed with torture passed, hung off of her small body loosely. Feverous infection raged through her veins, playing her face, darkening her eyes, and weakening the minuscule muscle tissue she had. Solaria possessed not the mind for cognition, for all energy now focused, innately, on the preservation of her life, despite how she longed to die. Primal instincts where none too easily put aside, whether it was her will or not. She had some mind, yet, however. While her body fought to keep her alive, her mind led her astray, urging her to find a place to deteriorate. Solaria was in sure arch of a tomb, a place where she could perish, and rot, and silently go back to the earth where not a soul would be bothered by her existence. Solaria's legs, however, could only carry her so far, and carried her they did until the very last of their energy was utterly spent. Wheezing, the girl collapsed to the ground, her body met with the unfamiliar softness of grass, them foreign warmth of sunlight, the smell of dirt. While she remained conscious, her body refused to move any further as if beginning in to purge itself of her soul, preparing for the impending death it predicted to come. So it seemed that she would end as she began, alone and in suffering, though now there was light in place of darkness. thespidershighness

CLOSED || Blackbeautyandlace

Nervousness shook Solaria's small frame as she entered her designated classroom and took up her assigned seat. While the teacher who had helped her prepare had been kind and patient, the girl had never before seen so many people in one place, and they all walked so close to her. She felt suffocated, trapped. They all looked at her strangely, perhaps due to her newness and unfamiliarity, though she knew it was most likely because of the scar over her left eye, which was not exactly inconspicuous. The unwanted attention made her stomach knot in anxiousness. What were they thinking? What were their intentions? Did they want to use her as others had done? She was surrounded by peers uncountable, all larger than her, and certainly stronger, for Solaria was a frail girl with little to say of strength. In fact, she was rather sickly; anything that had the opportunity to plague her would take over her body quickly and violently, be it a cold or something as simple as an elevator ride. She had just recovered from a terrible fever, which was the reason she was starting school a bit later than the rest of the students; she had been too ill. 

Attempting to take calming breaths, Solaria stared at her hands folded in her lap, sitting up perhaps straighter than the accepted norm among the relaxed environment of school. Her fingers shook something terrible, her heart slamming in her chest, eyes desperately avoiding any contact with that of anyone else'. Nauseous butterflies swarmed in her stomach, her brow clammy and her lightly freckled face pale. Solaria could only pray she could get through the day without a panic attack. If she were to make her own feelings apparent, that would be a grievous error on her part.

blackbeautyandlace