White walls. White flooring. White curtains. White paper. Everything that surrounds her is white. It represented nothing and everything all at once. Perhaps that description suited her too.
She was nothing after all. A mere reflection of everything that she had ever dreamed of. People who loved and cried and hated and experienced everything little thing that life had to offer and relished in it. She could feel her lips curl up slightly as she recalled memories that were not her own and showed her everything that laid beyond these porcelain walls.
Placing her pencil to paper she could pretend that she lived the lives of friends who she would never meet, or never meet again, those who she envied and loved with all of her nonexistent being. Friends who could make her feel like she truly existed. These thoughts and indulgences of her imagination were what helped her keep going despite her place in the world slowly vanishing. Once her purpose was fulfilled there was no reason for her to continue to linger here. She would fix what she had broken due to her manipulation and her own selfishness and that would be that. She would be forgotten just like everything else
…Naminé had accepted this.