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  • Beqanna

    version 22: awakening


    GHAUL -- Year 209


    "(souls are not meant to live more than once — death was not meant to be temporary, and she is so sure that every time her heart starts to beat again that irreversible damage is further inflicted)" -- Anonya, written by Colby

    [open]  And how I used to be me
    It was grey, every part of it. The grasses did their usual dance with the breeze that gently rustled the meadow, the flowers faced the sun, the trees stood tall, and the birds sang songs her ears could never comprehend, a language she could never unravel in time before the next curious thing came to puzzle her mind. Everything was as it always is, except that it was grey. 

    As her red eyes passed over the scene before her, she could see the plethora of colours, yet it felt like she couldn't recognize them. They weren't grey, no, but they felt grey. Even as she gazed at the brightly coloured blades below her, their green did not shine, it dulled to a hazy neutral tone which her brain refused to find interest in.

    The world was desaturated, everything moved too fast, and there was a haze within her mind. All of the days melted into what felt like one single long day, leaving her unable to truly tell how much time had passed - had she slept? Were there nights between this long day, or was the only goal to stay in constant motion? 

    Even if she had slept, she didn't feel like she had. Ainu did not feel the slightest bit rested, yet she could not think of why. Pale eyes sagged and puffed, feeling heavy and painful even when shut, and her head felt as if it was elsewhere; unattached to her own neck and floating away. Quietly, slowly, she moved through the tall grass, and as she watched her feet, she could not help but to notice that they did not look like her own. Did the feet that moved below her truly belong to her? It felt more like she was watching her body, and the rest of the world, through the eyes of another, as if even her own being was nothing but a stranger for her to observe idly. 

    She was unsure of what to call the feeling her chest, it was a mixture of confusion, fear, exhaustion, anger, it was so many things but never was one of those things something she could explain. Her heart sank further into the pits of her being, because even if she did not know how to explain how she felt, she so desperately wanted to speak. Even if the cacophony within her could never string together a single tangible thought or sound, she wished to desperately for someone to listen to it anyways. She wished for nothing more than to be heard, to let the words fall from her tongue as if within her throat she housed a waterfall of endless thoughts. 

    But thoughts are so plentiful, and so hurried, that to speak her mind she would speak forever, and so she resigned herself to misfortune of her silence.

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