(no subject)
Week Name/Date/Time: 'Dark Sarcasm in the Classroom' / Thursday, 12th January 2006 / 7:56 a.m.
Location: Just outside the Great Hall
Open To: Anyone
Currently Involving: Tyra
Tyra was having one of her bouts right now. Well, it wasn't bad, nor good. She would sit there and gently press her hand to her chest over her heart. She wasn't a freak or anything, she was just making sure of something.
You see, when Tyra lost her mother she had a hard time. Now without her father and realizing that she'll forever spend the holidays alone until she married, it struck home to her this past Christmas and New Years. So almost every day she would sit there. She would sit there and make sure that she was still alive. That her heart hadn't suddenly died on her and that it was still beating. That her heart hadn't gone cold and that she wasn't a bitter girl with nothing left.
So she sat right outside the Great Hall on one of the window ledges, staring aimlessly at the painting across the hall and listening. Just listening to the faint pitter patter of her heart. One might think that she was sleeping with her eyes open, or that maybe she was in some type of a trance but she'd occasionally twitch her leg, and sometimes even blink.
It was doing this everyday that assured herself of her mortality. That her soul hadn't left her and that she had some type of dignity left - some meaning in life. It just helped her get through the day.
Location: Just outside the Great Hall
Open To: Anyone
Currently Involving: Tyra
Tyra was having one of her bouts right now. Well, it wasn't bad, nor good. She would sit there and gently press her hand to her chest over her heart. She wasn't a freak or anything, she was just making sure of something.
You see, when Tyra lost her mother she had a hard time. Now without her father and realizing that she'll forever spend the holidays alone until she married, it struck home to her this past Christmas and New Years. So almost every day she would sit there. She would sit there and make sure that she was still alive. That her heart hadn't suddenly died on her and that it was still beating. That her heart hadn't gone cold and that she wasn't a bitter girl with nothing left.
So she sat right outside the Great Hall on one of the window ledges, staring aimlessly at the painting across the hall and listening. Just listening to the faint pitter patter of her heart. One might think that she was sleeping with her eyes open, or that maybe she was in some type of a trance but she'd occasionally twitch her leg, and sometimes even blink.
It was doing this everyday that assured herself of her mortality. That her soul hadn't left her and that she had some type of dignity left - some meaning in life. It just helped her get through the day.