One blow from caving in [manry cuppycake]

[Blake Riina Kildal]

Sunlight filtered into the quiet room, illuminating the dust streams that trailed over the light, making everything seem softer somehow, despite the dark colors and the harsh contours of the furniture surrounding the place. The room was deserted for the most part except for a smaller figure huddled around a harp, fingers moving over the strings, producing an eerie but still enchanting melody that just wandered around the room, weaving its own spell. The drawing room was warm and cozy, a sharp contrast of the snow and cold outside, separated by walls and windows.

The curtains were pulled back around the room, allowing the natural light in, the scant amount allowed for this time of year, before they were closed against the night chill and winds that screamed around the building. Most of the students were off huddled in the main library that held all the answers, but the drawing room was filled with old books to just read, rather than books with answers for the world. In all thoughts, the place was normally a good spot to study, nap, or read, seeing as it was isolation from the world without being on lock down.

Shifting slightly in her position, the girl pushed some long hair back, deciding momentarily that it was in her way and moving her fingers from the strings, allowing the notes to die down as she pulled the long blonde hair back into a braid, letting it trail over her shoulders and glint in the sun that was coming in from the window, catching it and making it glow in a way that most would describe as a halo. The girl couldn’t see any of it and instead closed blue eyes once more as she picked up the music.

Blake had finally started playing again, after a month of not speaking and not playing any sort of music, she chose to go back to the harp and play, letting the soothing notes and familiar motions drown out the static of her head, the angry voices that crept in, telling her she should die and stop wasting everyone’s time. It wasn’t that the girl was schizophrenic, or had any real mental disorder, it was merely everything she’d been told her entire life. Abuse was normal to her, she had no idea what it was like to not be broken and tossed aside like yesterday’s trash.

It was a sad story, a sob story that made everyone in the courts blame others for letting her slip through the cracks, like she did so easily, even now. If she were to actually have a problem, she wouldn’t be noticed, not with all the other kids stirring up trouble, so the tiny girl just sat back and stayed quiet, looking at the world through her hair, hiding away from it all. She had no real desire to even go out and try to find the people she had talked to in what seemed like so long ago, seeing as she felt they wouldn’t be bothered with her.

Notes took a sad turn with her thoughts, her fingers caressing the strings to produce the sound, one that was of an instrument that was difficult to master for most, unless that person had an uncanny ability for music and a lot of time to practice. She had both, whether or not she wanted to admit or see it. Blake didn’t understand why everyone was so intent on keeping her alive, her best guess was it was they didn’t want to fail themselves, in this place full of people that had made wrong decisions and ended up in the wrong places. The courts had admitted her decision had been wrong, but they understood why she did what she did and sent her here, hopefully for rehabilitation.

All diagnosis pointed towards the girl never reaching twenty, because of the multiple attempts she’d made to take her own life and to move on, leaving behind the world. If she’d ever been successful, there wouldn’t be a funeral, no one to miss her. Blake still wondered that occasionally, when the darkness of the night brought the nightmares on louder than ever, waking her up, shivering and covered in a cold sweat. She hated sleeping in that room by herself, but others thought it would be a good idea for her to room by herself in this place of abandonment. She did kill three people after all.

Sometimes she woke to a silent scream, the noise never coming out of her throat, clutching at her stomach, her ribs. She had faint scars dancing on her body, ones that could never be seen unless she was standing under a harsh light and they were examining her entire body. Scars from the abuse she’d endured for years. Then there were the scars on her mind. Those were the ones that were obvious to everyone, scars that she made no real effort to hide anymore because of the loneliness she was suffering from. All she’d ever really wanted was someone she could turn to when she needed, but even that was beyond her grasp. Before coming here, Blake hadn’t know what it was like to be a ‘friend’ to someone.

She’d never had a single healthy relationship in her life, that much was obvious to anyone who interacted with her. She was smart when she wanted to be, but she was far more content to sit in class and be quiet, staring at the top of her desk, doing her assignments. Granted, she’d lately started failing because she’d stopped sleeping at night, instead sleeping in class with her head drooped down, not trying anymore. After all, wasn’t she a failure?

Stopping faintly, she shook her head and opened her eyes, looking up at the ceiling above her and smiling faintly, admiring the work that went into this place as her fingers started playing a more contemplative tune, one that wasn’t as sad and depressing as her thoughts had been. Maybe if the music could change, so could she? But that was a question for another time, and so far the girl only played her happier music or mostly any music if she was alone or thought she was alone.