Author's Notes: I just realized that I haven't been putting these on any of my stories.. woopsie!
After critiquing, and mulling over the subject, I decided that Down In Chehalis was not complete. These few chapters depict Brett's life a year prior to her collapse. I'd also like to extend a biiig thank you to those who've read and given me feedback (including my sister, Nicole).
And you know I couldn't resist some more MP, could you? :3
Hope you enjoy~~
Ancient Walls Of Flowers
Ancient walls of whispers falling low.
Murmur, simmer, and I'm feeling slow.
Keep me up, but keep me in my head.
I'll ping and pound of posies 'til I'm dead.
THE BAUER-WOOD ORPHANAGE - TWO ISLES EAST OF DAUTSIN
"Sometimes I feel like I don't deserve this." The words were muffled as Brett downed the last sip of alcohol in her glass.
"You don't," Wolfwood gave a flat reply. "To tell you the truth, none of us do. But we're all given our second chances, are we not?"
"I suppose so," she sighed, glancing out the window. "But what good is a second chance, when you feel horrid?" She let her head lull within her palm, attempting to cease the waves. There was a warm, queasy sensation building at the pit of her stomach, reminding her of the inability to hold her liquor. A hand suddenly came to rest upon her own, a finger gently tracing figure eights across her wrist. She peered over at the man sitting adjacent her; lips mounted in a thin line, heavy eyes laced with sleep staring back at her own.
"What happened," he began, "was out of your control. The people that died would've been killed either way, with or without your influence."
"No, I could've stopped them. There had to have been another way." There was a long pause before she stood, making for the door. "I'm going to bed. Before this drinking turns me into a cynic."
She thought back, eyes fixed upon the reflection of her bare torso. Numerous scars, perhaps twenty prominent in count, marred the surface of her flesh. She traced the thin line that seemed meticulously etched across her temple, and sighed. They would forever serve as a grim reminder of the wrongs she had failed to undo.
Her stomach wrenched as she let out a staggered breath, heaving once into the bowl. "Never again," she sighed, clenching her dome between her knees, cool porcelain pressing against her forehead. The bathroom floor would be her sanctuary tonight.
