Casey Novak is pale and rotted from the inside, out.
She's angry.
She's (a little?) lost.
And she's bleeding.
She has nothing to show for her progress over the months but a lapse of control. One massive effort of nothing. Utter shit. Twenty-nine years of climbing and seven months of failure doesn't really seem worth it to her anymore. So she sits there on the edge of her mattress with blood-stained skin, runs her fingers through her hair, and pulls.
She'd like to feel something – anything – that hurts to fill in the empty spaces. Never mind her anger, it's subsiding. And it's now that she realizes what she's done, that she has no fucking clue what to do.
She can feel black crowding around her and it absolutely terrifies her. She panics, but not in the same way she had done prior to her loss of life in progress. This time around, she can feel it escaping from her lesions. But,
she doesn't want to die.
an: old story, modified. show your liking/hatred of this prologue via reviews? chapter one will be posted soon.