I linger in the doorway
Of alarm clock screaming
Monsters calling my name
Let me stay
Where the wind will whisper to me
Where the raindrops, as they're falling, tell a story
Soft, angelic blue hair whistles through the rustling winds as a cloaked figure stands, hidden behind a vanilla white door and protected by the ever-present blanket of darkness. There is a loud wailing sound that seems to cut and lacerate through the already dank atmosphere. The effeminate figure seems frozen in their spot; molded to the floor by some type of unseen presence, some type of unseen weight. The figure can be seen as a girl upon closer inspection; no, not a girl, a woman. A delicate white, origami flower is nestled within a quant bun of her delicate azure hair. There is suddenly a booming voice that echoes throughout the hallway and the rest of the unseen abode; a voice it seems, one composed of pure anger and hostility it makes even the woman herself jump.
What is said by the voice cannot be made out, but even despite this knowledge the woman seems troubled by it. Her facial expression changes from one of deep thought to one of troubles uncertainty. Her figure carefully moves from its spot, a black cloak around her waving through the air delicately as her body swerves around and then is gone, a mist of tiny, white flurry disappearing with her.
Down the hall is an open window. Rain pelts violently down upon the roof of the shelter, and in a moment the woman is back into sight, lingering in front of the open passageway to the outdoors. Her hand gently reaches out; skin so white and pale it leaves one wondering if the woman has ever gone outside in her entire existence. A sharp gust is blow through the window and crashes into the woman, causing the small flower amongst her hair to whirl out and float through the air before suddenly stopping and moving back to its original spot, plastering against her head delicately like nothing had ever happened. Her fingers begin to tap softly against the sill of the window, and her mouth has formed a hard line on her powder white face. Soon enough though, those plump red lips begin to move, and a single sentence breaks through the barrier of the woman's composure, speaking so silently; it is almost as if the words were never even spoken.
"One day…"
This is just a tiny drable, all the rest will be like this, but hope someone likes it.
Again, they are all based off of verse's of the song, Imaginary, by Evanescence.
Always,
Bryan(: