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[[Lucilly Peterson: START]]

Oh! She cried. She wept and she yowled and she mourned and she sobbed and she wailed and howled and it went on and it went on.

Her eyes were red and the cheeks on her face were red and run over with a countless number of tears shed over a countless amount of time. Snot formed in her nose and whenever she breathed out the snot bubbled up and ran down her face. Whenever she breathed in the snot wandered into her throat, so that her wailing was only to be disturbed by a coughing fit from some time to some time.

Lucilly touched herself. Clutched herself. Hang unto herself. Grabbing her knees and remaining frozen sitting on a table. A bag with an omnious number etched onto it sat right beside her, and though she did not dare to open it for opening meant to accept what was not to be acceptable, she knew it was hers. It was her. And it would be, until she...

She cried. And wailed. And cried some more, sobbing into her clothes and into her legs, eyes closed shut for if they were open they would see a puddle of gross fluids - expelled from Lucilly herself upon her awakening - sitting, laying menacingly right before her table.

A sound came from somewhere. A thud, something that happened happened somewhere else, and yet too close for Lucilly's liking. She raised her eyes. She observed the room and felt a contraction of her muscles around her stomach area once again.

But she listened, and though she stopped crying she felt a fear and a misery that has just become a ten times greater.

Oh! The pain in her stomach, it become just too much to bear. The pressure that build within her become just too much to bear. She leaned forward, tears and snot falling off her face into the ground and although she cried in pain, nothing came from within her stomach.
Fiyori Senay
 


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You Could Have A Dream About Losing Your Friends · Lobotomy Lab