No mood for celebration
The lights were flipped on. No one was home. Jessie sighed, knowing full well why.
The girl strode in, wearing a sleeveless black undershirt, boots and urban-style camouflage pants. Her jacket was slung casually over one shoulder. That jacket was tossed to one side, and those boots were soon kicked off, landing in the corner with a heavy thud.
"Yeah, so it's my birthday," the tired-looking blonde said to her empty room. "Eighteen and everything. So, finally legal, huh Ralphie?" Emerald eyes gazed over at the empty bed where her friend should be, should she not have been in a hospital cot across town. Instead of a friendly tease back there was only silence. "So...you don' gotta worry 'bout me no more," Jessie then said to herself, speaking to the girl who was not there to listen. "Don't gotta worry 'bout me not dancin', using a fake ID 'cause I'm still just a kid or whatever..."
That night had not left her mind, not once in the two weeks since her roommate's accident. Ralph had caught her doing something she had hoped no one would ever find out about. The girl was frustrated that she couldn't do nothing about it, and that her friend had fallen on such hard times. And she was upset...Jessie remembered how upset Ralph was, at her, because she was too proud to ask for help or accept it when it was offered.
The next thing she knew, Ralph had tried to blow herself up. She had to have her head cracked open and doctors poking around in her brain. No one knew if she'd ever wake up, or just how bad things got before they were able to fix her up.
And it was all her fault.
She swung at the items placed on top of her dresser in frustration, smashing most with a backhand fist that cleared the space. "Dammit, Ralph," she cried out, upset but too strong to let the tears fall. "Why? Why'd you have to go an' do that..." Miserable and alone, she ambled about the room for a minute before turning on some depressing grunge rock on the stereo. It was the only thing that seemed to suit her mood. "Why'd this have to happen..."
((OOC: Open to Ralph, Roxy, and Seven of course, or anyone else who feels like dropping by.))
The girl strode in, wearing a sleeveless black undershirt, boots and urban-style camouflage pants. Her jacket was slung casually over one shoulder. That jacket was tossed to one side, and those boots were soon kicked off, landing in the corner with a heavy thud.
"Yeah, so it's my birthday," the tired-looking blonde said to her empty room. "Eighteen and everything. So, finally legal, huh Ralphie?" Emerald eyes gazed over at the empty bed where her friend should be, should she not have been in a hospital cot across town. Instead of a friendly tease back there was only silence. "So...you don' gotta worry 'bout me no more," Jessie then said to herself, speaking to the girl who was not there to listen. "Don't gotta worry 'bout me not dancin', using a fake ID 'cause I'm still just a kid or whatever..."
That night had not left her mind, not once in the two weeks since her roommate's accident. Ralph had caught her doing something she had hoped no one would ever find out about. The girl was frustrated that she couldn't do nothing about it, and that her friend had fallen on such hard times. And she was upset...Jessie remembered how upset Ralph was, at her, because she was too proud to ask for help or accept it when it was offered.
The next thing she knew, Ralph had tried to blow herself up. She had to have her head cracked open and doctors poking around in her brain. No one knew if she'd ever wake up, or just how bad things got before they were able to fix her up.
And it was all her fault.
She swung at the items placed on top of her dresser in frustration, smashing most with a backhand fist that cleared the space. "Dammit, Ralph," she cried out, upset but too strong to let the tears fall. "Why? Why'd you have to go an' do that..." Miserable and alone, she ambled about the room for a minute before turning on some depressing grunge rock on the stereo. It was the only thing that seemed to suit her mood. "Why'd this have to happen..."
((OOC: Open to Ralph, Roxy, and Seven of course, or anyone else who feels like dropping by.))