- WARNING:
- This topic may be disturbing so some people, but this following topic is something AIkomi goes through regularly, and that I also go through regularly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~Part 1: Uprising~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was a normal night, and Aikomi lay in bed in her typical, and pink, pajamas. She'd brushed her teeth, washed her face, all of the like. It was just... Normal.
The synthetic lay there, her limbs spread across the matress, her body simply flopped over top of the blanket, not actually under it. She reached her right hand up, curling a strand or two of her snowy white hair around a finger. How exciting, this place was. How did she get here? Why was she here? How did what she used to live like turn into this?
"Used to live like"?
She didn't know what that thought meant, but as it echoed around her mind a disturbed look began to creep onto her face.
A sharp intake of breath and Aiko was pushing her back against the headboard of her bed, as well as the wall. She looked around slowly, eyes wide, before her short sporadic breathing grew into a faint, whispering giggle. Her hands came off of the pillow and softly placed themselves to the girl's face, before their grip tightened and she began to do what was essentially a frantic clawing of her face. The corners of her mouth twitched in contempt- contempt directed at what? She hunched her back over, now leaning forward and curling into a ball in a semi-upright sitting position.
A lightness in her heart, a sharp yet soft pain in her chest, an absence of life in her blank eyes as she stared at the fingers partially obscuring her view. Her mouth opened enough to reveal a small grin, and she could feel her saliva pushing up aganst the backs of her teeth, leaking through the cracks, dropping onto her palms.
A few seconds more and she dropped, going from upright fetal position to face down on the bed, also in the fetal position. Her whispery giggles turned into hissing laughs.
No, not everybody was perfect, but some were certainly less so than others. That much was for sure.
She wanted to cry; A small, minute feeling, but she still wanted to cry.