the hand of fear

Fear the Worst.

She never fully understood why, nor why it was happening. She heard the whispers, but couldn’t make anything out. No intel on why she was being kept, or what they planned to do with her. Everything happened so fast, the Priestess shut down. She remained void of expression most of the time, barely spoke and refused to eat. With her condition, it was a dangerous thing. She was already such a fragile creature. 

The only hint she got, was the subtle mention of her Mother’s name. That, in itself caused her stomach to twist and turn and there was times she feared she would vomit from the stress. Her hands began to bruise due to the constant fidgeting as she waited, pulled here and there to places she had never been. She recognized one woman, Celestine; whom her Uncle had spoken about before but this “Mr. Blaque” was completely foreign to her. She averted any sort of physical contact, cowered and even at times wept. Sometimes, she wasn’t completely sure why she wept. Be it the fear of the unknown or the constant stress her mind was placed under. 

What could she have possibly done to deserve any of this. Taken from her home in Silvermoon and her duties as a Priestess to be held with little to no breathing room. 

“I want to go home..” 

Was the only thing anyone managed to get out of her, and other than that she remained silent with a thousand mile stare into nowhere. Her white dress speckled with stains and dirt, torn at the bottom and hair a mess. This was a traumatizing situation for the fragile Priestess. 

And at times, It seemed she might just… wither away. 

[ @wolf-queen @mrblaque @kurel-andiel

Monday 8:27am
I woke up with you on my mind.
You called me babe last night —
my heart is still pounding.

Tuesday 10:53pm
Today I realized we won’t work.
What we are is hurting her.
And I think she matters more to me than you do.

Wednesday 11:52pm
I broke things off with you today.
She barely said a word.
I’ve never regretted anything more than this.

Thursday 4:03pm
I shouldn’t have sent that message.
You shouldn’t have been so okay with receiving it.

Friday 9:57pm
I almost messaged you today.
I didn’t.

Saturday 8:49pm
I’m walking around town in search of alcohol.
They say that liquor numbs the pain of having a broken heart.
I want to put that to the test.

Sunday 2:32am
I heard you texted a girl you’ve never spoken to before.
I wonder if it’s because you’re trying to replace me.
I can’t help but wish you weren’t.
I thought I was irreplaceable.

—  a week with you on my mind, c.j.n.
Move on, leave, run away, escape this place… but don’t forget about me, about us, about this town. Always remember where you come from so you can appreciate how far you’ve come.
—  c.j.n.