[Geist] Hitting the Bottom
Jan. 4th, 2012 11:34 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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writing_shadowsOOC: Another Geist titbit. Due to some awesome personal stuff I am feeling more enthused to write for Alex. Perhaps also her negative view of the world is easier to write with how I am feeling right now as well. I do have some other things I need to try and get written down which I will try and do soon.
The flat looked like a hurricane had happened to it. There were broken bits of bottles and glasses in the kitchen and some of the furniture was damaged as well, one of the chairs looked like it had been hurled against the wall. The destruction continued into other parts of the flat as well. The bathroom mirror was smashed and there were traces of blood in the glass remaining in the frame, as well as the pieces on the floor.
In the bedroom the bedding had been taken off of the bed and the covers ripped off of it. The bedside lamp lay in pieces in the doorway of the room. There were clothes strewn all over the floor and the wardrobe door lay open with the drawers half hanging out or on the floor.
With all the mess it was easy enough to overlook the figure in the corner of the bedroom. She lay curled up between the window and the bed next to where the bedding lay crumpled in a discarded heap of material. Her body was stark naked and bruised and she looked like she had been through about as much war as the rest of the flat. Her hands were cut around the knuckles with shards of mirror glass still embedded in them.
Her eyes were red and she looked as though she had been crying a lot. Now she was just sitting there, staring blankly into the room and seemingly oblivious to the cold. One completely empty bottle of whisky lay next to her.
She turned as though to look at someone standing next to her, "I don’t care if you approve, you're the reason I can’t die you bastard." Her voice sounded slurred and her eyes weren't focusing properly.
"Of course, he's the reason I want to." At that she threw the empty bottle across the room and dispassionately watched it break against the wardrobe door.
"Nothing's worth a damn anymore." She reaches down and pulls up another bottle of whisky from where she left it on the floor, breaking open the seal and taking a long swig of it, "You win, oblivion is better than nothing."
The flat looked like a hurricane had happened to it. There were broken bits of bottles and glasses in the kitchen and some of the furniture was damaged as well, one of the chairs looked like it had been hurled against the wall. The destruction continued into other parts of the flat as well. The bathroom mirror was smashed and there were traces of blood in the glass remaining in the frame, as well as the pieces on the floor.
In the bedroom the bedding had been taken off of the bed and the covers ripped off of it. The bedside lamp lay in pieces in the doorway of the room. There were clothes strewn all over the floor and the wardrobe door lay open with the drawers half hanging out or on the floor.
With all the mess it was easy enough to overlook the figure in the corner of the bedroom. She lay curled up between the window and the bed next to where the bedding lay crumpled in a discarded heap of material. Her body was stark naked and bruised and she looked like she had been through about as much war as the rest of the flat. Her hands were cut around the knuckles with shards of mirror glass still embedded in them.
Her eyes were red and she looked as though she had been crying a lot. Now she was just sitting there, staring blankly into the room and seemingly oblivious to the cold. One completely empty bottle of whisky lay next to her.
She turned as though to look at someone standing next to her, "I don’t care if you approve, you're the reason I can’t die you bastard." Her voice sounded slurred and her eyes weren't focusing properly.
"Of course, he's the reason I want to." At that she threw the empty bottle across the room and dispassionately watched it break against the wardrobe door.
"Nothing's worth a damn anymore." She reaches down and pulls up another bottle of whisky from where she left it on the floor, breaking open the seal and taking a long swig of it, "You win, oblivion is better than nothing."
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Date: 2012-01-04 11:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-08 09:16 am (UTC)