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Has seen that which cannot be unseen.
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Alice let her hands rest on her knees as she kept looking out the window, or rather, the gaping hole that used to have a window in the general vicinity. Her thigh was still throbbing every once in a while. She had already gone through a good amount of bandages and antiseptic trying to maintain that wound, but it still kept hurting, even days after the bullet grazed her. At this point she wasn't sure if it would ever completely stop.

It was hard to explain how she felt using any words that weren't synonyms for "miserable". She was tired, stressed, hungry, unsatisfied, and felt that time was running on an hourglass that was on the verge of running out. She had been lucky enough not to die, but not lucky enough to escape or find any way to defend herself. It was a cruel luck. And with all that she had been through, she felt no desire to do anything but sit and wait. She was simply drained.

The room was a canvas of both the faded effects of the old asylum and the fresh death that had coated the room since her class' arrival on the island. And yet there she sat, one of the few living things left after so much suffering had gone on around her.

She turned to look at Bree as the sound of the rain began doing its part to set the mood. She didn't have much to say, only one thing that was on her mind at that moment.

"I'm sorry."

She didn't have anything in particular to apologize for. She was just... sorry. For everything.
Edited by Aura, Aug 18 2017, 01:41 PM.
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Rain, Rain, Come Again · Art Therapy