(no subject)
When she woke that morning, she found a box waiting for her just by the bed. Wrapped in festive silver paper and done up in a shiny red bow, and immediately she wanted to toss it off a fucking cliff. She'd missed Christmas at home, she'd thought at the time that she wanted nothing more, but Louise and Jean Pierre were dead, everyone was dead, and she didn't feel much like celebrating.
Who the fuck would've left her a present, anyhow?
She climbed out of bed and dressed slowly, pointedly ignoring the damned box and all it's cheerfulness. Healing but still covered in scars, she wore a thin long-sleeved top and jeans, even in all the returned heat. She had a coffee and a cigarette, then finally she returned to her room, lifted the box and slide her fingertip carefully under the seam of shiny paper, peeling back tape and neatly, cautiously revealing what was inside.
Now, less than an hour later, Sarah was wandering the path with a brand new camera hanging from her neck. Top of the line, but digital, which annoyed the piss out of her, but at least it was something. Loaded the little disc, snapped on the zoom lens, and when she'd stepped out of the compound she'd felt for the first time in months that she could actually breathe. She focused in on a brightly colored butterfly, snapping photos and stubbornly ignoring all the people around her, who would've made much more interesting subjects.
She was going to have a decent fucking day, even if, deep down, she'd rather stay miserable.
Who the fuck would've left her a present, anyhow?
She climbed out of bed and dressed slowly, pointedly ignoring the damned box and all it's cheerfulness. Healing but still covered in scars, she wore a thin long-sleeved top and jeans, even in all the returned heat. She had a coffee and a cigarette, then finally she returned to her room, lifted the box and slide her fingertip carefully under the seam of shiny paper, peeling back tape and neatly, cautiously revealing what was inside.
Now, less than an hour later, Sarah was wandering the path with a brand new camera hanging from her neck. Top of the line, but digital, which annoyed the piss out of her, but at least it was something. Loaded the little disc, snapped on the zoom lens, and when she'd stepped out of the compound she'd felt for the first time in months that she could actually breathe. She focused in on a brightly colored butterfly, snapping photos and stubbornly ignoring all the people around her, who would've made much more interesting subjects.
She was going to have a decent fucking day, even if, deep down, she'd rather stay miserable.