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Post by Taylor Marie Parker on May 11, 2008 15:42:39 GMT -5
"I hate that stupid old pickup truck
You never let me drive
You're a redneck heartbreak
Who's really bad at lying
So watch me strike a match
On all my wasted time
As far as I'm concerned you're
Just another picture to burn"
Maria sang acapella as she lay back on her bed. Her words faded into a soft hum. She looked around the room. She had almost completely moved in. The only thing left was a small cardboard box in the corner of the room. She laid her head back on the pillow with a sigh. She wasn't ready to mess with that one box. |
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Post by Anastasia Jenkins on May 11, 2008 15:54:26 GMT -5
Life was a bitch. Basically in all manners of the word too. Or at least it was to Anastasia. First off she had woken up this morning, staring at the dreaded white walls of her bedroom and then found her way into one of the classrooms. Ten minutes into the lesson, she'd found she was practically a year ahead of the class and spent the rest of the class organizing her books, her desk, and her bag. Then she'd finally dove into a good book when she had been disturbed by some yelling from outside and couldn't concentrate anymore. She couldn't even think about sleep; she really didn't need to see the crimson splatter of blood on the white walls of her home, a missing chunk of flesh from a body part, her mother's malicious face as she laughed, and most frightening of all, the relentless face of the dog, nipping at her and chasing her through dark halls.
Worst of all, another letter came for her. A letter Ana didn't bother to read and didn't even care to open. It was ripped into shreds and went into the box on the far right underneath her bed. After that she'd been outside and had dozed off until she'd found herself looking into the deathly pale face of her mother and wake up practically hyperventilating. Oh well, at least she'd gotten some use of the breathing exercises one of the therapists had taught her. Now here she was, smoothing out her green tank top and grasping the door knob. Anastasia opened the door to find a blond girl singing on the other bed and raised a delicate eyebrow. "Hey roommate," she said, making her way over to her bookshelf and straightening out the journals.
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Post by Taylor Marie Parker on May 11, 2008 16:32:51 GMT -5
Maria sat on the bed frozen. She'd been caught and even worse by the person who she would be sharing a room with. "Uh.. Hi.." She forced a fake smile to hide her embarrasment. She looked down at her hands and fiddled her fingers. Why was she allways so damn preserved about everything.
"Whats up?" She stood up and walked accross her room to her dresser. She opened her top drwer and pulled out a washcloth and stuffed it into her pocket and then turned around showing a more beleivable smile this time. |
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Post by Anastasia Jenkins on May 11, 2008 17:34:13 GMT -5
Out of the corner of her eye, Anastasia could see her roommate frozen on the bed and felt herself warm to the girl a bit. Maybe she'd been lucky and got a roommate who she would actually get along with. That would be nice, to have a friend here. This institute made her feel incredibly self conscious, more than ever. Did these people think she was as crazy as she thought some of them were? Instantly she wondered what her roommate had been sent here for and prayed it wasn't pyromania. Schizophrenia she could deal with. Hell, even multiple personalities wouldn't be terrible. But she would not have fire all around her and definitely did not want her room to get burned down. "I'm Anastasia but if that's too long for you, the name's Ana." She smiled tentatively at the blond and then walked over to her bed, hopping onto it to reach the poster on her wall.
She raised her eyebrows at the washcloth her roommate had slipped into her pocket but didn't question her right away. This was a mental hospital, of course there would be weird things going on. "Just dreading the inevitable nightfall," she half joked, twirling a lock of her chestnut hair around a slim finger before examining the poster, changing it's angle six times exactly. She counted as she did it, the numbers coming out of her mouth as silently as possible and then slid off her bed, back onto the floor and examined her blond roommate. "What's with the washcloth?" She asked curiously, her dark eyes glimmering with curiosity.
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Post by Taylor Marie Parker on May 12, 2008 9:44:56 GMT -5
Maria walked back to her bed and sat down. Her roommate didn't seem like a psycho case. At least, Not yet. She scooted back on the bed and slipped the washcloth out of her pocket. "I'm Maria.." A small smile was still lingering on her lips. She always told people her name was Marie. It technically was her middle name at least.
Great. I've got a roommate who can't sleep. Perfect. Maria thought at Ana’s answer. She caught herself before she said it out loud. This is why your not like, Maria She told herself. “Oh.. Uh…” Caught for the second time in ten minutes. She put the washcloth beside her leg. “It’s nothing.. Just a... necklace...” She stuttered over her words.
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