Post by Deleted on Nov 3, 2014 14:33:30 GMT -6
When Seychelles found an unlocked door leading outside, she didn't question where she might find herself, or what she might run into. No, she made a break for the one thing that had always served as her haven since she was a child growing up in the colonies founded on her islands: the outdoors. She needed the wide open skies overhead, unhindered by the constricting ceilings of the great building. She needed the fresh air, away from the musty furniture and dilapidated walls. It was liberating to finally for the first time have something akin to freedom. That's all she had wanted since discovering how hard it was to navigate the twisted halls. Sweet, blessed freedom!
But this wasn't really freedom, was it? The grounds were large, much bigger than a simple house and a yard. She could wander for hours, and still be on the property. The sky, open though it was, wasn't clear, shielded by a thick layer of gloom. The clouds mocked Seychelles, denying her the brilliant blue she had desired for so long. The air, too, was heavy, thick and strangling just like everything else in the accursed manor, poisoned with what Seychelles decided was none other than pure evil. But any step away from this place is a step closer to home, she assured herself, desperately clinging to what little hope she had left. She lifted her arms, fingers outstretched for the grey light that filtered through the tree branches. If this was merely an imitation of freedom, she would enjoy it just as much as the real thing. It was, after all, better than nothing. Then, with a set determination, she began to walk. Her wandering was somewhat aimless, but that's all mobility was in a place like this. She was positive that if she kept going, she would find a way outside– a way home.
And what of the others? The others… There were other nations in the manor still: friends, family. She had seen them. Were they still there? I made it out. They can find a way too. I can meet them, just on the other side. Or would she? Supposing she just got lucky. She herself had taken so long to even find a way outside, and there still wasn't a guaranteed escape from her current standpoint. They could be stuck– trapped. And she was out here, thinking only of herself, her own desperation to get back home. They probably wanted to go home too. …I can't go back. She felt sick even thinking of it, but it was the truth. Even for them, I can't go back. What if I never come back out? What if I never see the sky again? She bit her tongue, despising her own selfishness while dreading what selflessness required. She needed this. She needed to get out. She couldn't just walk back into the cage when she had finally found hope of escape. They need hope too…
Stepping under the shade of a weedy gazebo, she leaned against a pillar, looking out to the view the forlorn place had to offer. It was dreadfully quiet, so much so that she thought the slightest noise would be snuffed out by the silence itself. Weren't there birds here? Or even chirping insects? Instead, the only sounds were the breeze knocking against dying branches. Even the lake down below only reflected the grey of the sky. This place must have been beautiful long ago… Now, it was sad. Everything in this place that should have been beautiful was instead melancholic, bittersweet at best. Eyes trained looking off in the distance, trying to catch a glimpse of the sunshine that must have lain just beyond where her sight could reach, she wrapped her arms tightly around the pillar, either expressing her pity and regret for the deterioration of such a pretty place, or just looking to hold onto anything in place of affection and reassurance. Perhaps it was both.
"…I don't want to be alone either," she said to no one, wanting nothing more than to fill the silence that was suffocating her. As much as she hated to, she had to go back if it meant just finding someone, anyone. If she did manage to escape, and was the only one to escape…how sad a world would that be? She held tighter to the pillar, so much so that she was almost afraid of snapping it in two. Even so, she didn't think she had it in her to just walk back through those doors. No, she would stay outside as long as she could, until the cold or dark chased her back indoors. This image of liberation, however brief, was her solace, and she would hold onto it as long as she was allowed. Pressing her cheek to gnarled wood and peeling paint, she continued to stare longingly into the distance. "I just want to see the sun," she muttered under her breath, comforted by the sound of her own voice. "Just let me see the sun once more, and then I'll go back…" Lies, of course, and empty promises. But she was wilting, longing to see the one thing that would prove she was still on Earth and not some inescapable Hell.
But this wasn't really freedom, was it? The grounds were large, much bigger than a simple house and a yard. She could wander for hours, and still be on the property. The sky, open though it was, wasn't clear, shielded by a thick layer of gloom. The clouds mocked Seychelles, denying her the brilliant blue she had desired for so long. The air, too, was heavy, thick and strangling just like everything else in the accursed manor, poisoned with what Seychelles decided was none other than pure evil. But any step away from this place is a step closer to home, she assured herself, desperately clinging to what little hope she had left. She lifted her arms, fingers outstretched for the grey light that filtered through the tree branches. If this was merely an imitation of freedom, she would enjoy it just as much as the real thing. It was, after all, better than nothing. Then, with a set determination, she began to walk. Her wandering was somewhat aimless, but that's all mobility was in a place like this. She was positive that if she kept going, she would find a way outside– a way home.
And what of the others? The others… There were other nations in the manor still: friends, family. She had seen them. Were they still there? I made it out. They can find a way too. I can meet them, just on the other side. Or would she? Supposing she just got lucky. She herself had taken so long to even find a way outside, and there still wasn't a guaranteed escape from her current standpoint. They could be stuck– trapped. And she was out here, thinking only of herself, her own desperation to get back home. They probably wanted to go home too. …I can't go back. She felt sick even thinking of it, but it was the truth. Even for them, I can't go back. What if I never come back out? What if I never see the sky again? She bit her tongue, despising her own selfishness while dreading what selflessness required. She needed this. She needed to get out. She couldn't just walk back into the cage when she had finally found hope of escape. They need hope too…
Stepping under the shade of a weedy gazebo, she leaned against a pillar, looking out to the view the forlorn place had to offer. It was dreadfully quiet, so much so that she thought the slightest noise would be snuffed out by the silence itself. Weren't there birds here? Or even chirping insects? Instead, the only sounds were the breeze knocking against dying branches. Even the lake down below only reflected the grey of the sky. This place must have been beautiful long ago… Now, it was sad. Everything in this place that should have been beautiful was instead melancholic, bittersweet at best. Eyes trained looking off in the distance, trying to catch a glimpse of the sunshine that must have lain just beyond where her sight could reach, she wrapped her arms tightly around the pillar, either expressing her pity and regret for the deterioration of such a pretty place, or just looking to hold onto anything in place of affection and reassurance. Perhaps it was both.
"…I don't want to be alone either," she said to no one, wanting nothing more than to fill the silence that was suffocating her. As much as she hated to, she had to go back if it meant just finding someone, anyone. If she did manage to escape, and was the only one to escape…how sad a world would that be? She held tighter to the pillar, so much so that she was almost afraid of snapping it in two. Even so, she didn't think she had it in her to just walk back through those doors. No, she would stay outside as long as she could, until the cold or dark chased her back indoors. This image of liberation, however brief, was her solace, and she would hold onto it as long as she was allowed. Pressing her cheek to gnarled wood and peeling paint, she continued to stare longingly into the distance. "I just want to see the sun," she muttered under her breath, comforted by the sound of her own voice. "Just let me see the sun once more, and then I'll go back…" Lies, of course, and empty promises. But she was wilting, longing to see the one thing that would prove she was still on Earth and not some inescapable Hell.