Wet. Dark. Deafening silence.
Malachite was strange when Jasper was kept underneath, under control. First it was peaceful, there was no screaming. No hitting. No shouting, no more empty threats. But after a while, it always got uneasy. It was isolating. Too quiet, her mind would jump to ridiculous things. Smash your face into that rock. Rip yourself apart. End it. It was just like the mirror all over again. And at times, it seemed like all there was left to do was give up.