Post by BREE ♥ RIPSEN on Feb 26, 2013 11:29:16 GMT -6
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=style, background-color: #423c42;,true][cs=2] BE CAREFUL MAKING WISHES ` IN THE DARK CAN'T BE SURE WHEN THEY'VE HIT THEIR MARK AND BESIDES IN THE MEANTIME I'M JUST DREAMING OF TEARING YOU - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - apart | |
| [atrb=width,240] Libraries. Books. They were, as the young vampire found, great getaways from the world that she lived in. A place where nothing could get her. And all she had to do was open a book, scan the page. Then, she would be somewhere else completely, safe from all harm, following behind the protagonist in a quick step as the plot progressed. It didn't matter what genre of book, either. It could be humor, romance, horror (although, for obvious reasons, she tended to steer clear of these), and she could still be whisked off somewhere else. Where no one could hurt her, where she wasn't at the mercy of anyone around her. Which, technically, she wasn't. She knew she wasn't. But after being so alone, so helpless, she trusted no one. She found herself getting on the border of sentimentality, which definitely was not happening, not in public. This is why she didn't often reminisce; she missed everything that she'd had before far, far too much. Sometimes, she wished that it'd been Isabelle, like he'd intended, that'd come down the stairs that night. That she would have been so lucky as to die. But, each time that happened, each time those thoughts crossed her mind, she scolded herself exponentially. How selfish she was, wishing something like that on someone else. Isabelle would have crumbled. Besides, it was all a punishment. Bree had kept quiet about him for too long. She should have known when she first met him that he was no good, should have done everything she could. But, no, all she'd given was a warning. A warning that had come too late, far too late. And, because of her ignorance, her family had died. And so had she; she wasn't here anymore. She was a corpse. A living, breathing corpse. She winced inconspicuously at that term as it pulsed in her brain. Corpse. It was a horrid word, both in pronunciation and meaning. And, yet, it described what she was so perfectly. The old Bree was long dead; she'd died with her family, no matter how hard Bree tried to pretend that she was still alive. No, now she was a mere shell of who she used to be... She shook her head fiercely, not caring who or what could see her. She wasn't going to go down that route. No, she didn't have the will, or the energy, to dwell on what might have been. What had happened had happened. And, although it was hard to deal with, a little, glowing part of her refused to believe that it would never get better. She had forever to deal with it, forever to get over herself and see that she wasn't the only one with problems. She refused to be a victim. That was why she'd left, wasn't it? She was sick and tired of being a target, an outlet, a punchbag. She continued down the corridor of St. Gabriel until she found the library, the place that she had set out to find. The warm, musty smell of books greeted her as she opened the door, alerting her to the fact that, yes, she had stepped into the right room. And, right from when her eyes met the shelves, she knew that this was her favorite place in the school. Each shelf was piled high with all sorts of books. Classics, Paranormal, anything, they were probably there. A wide grin slowly spread on her face as she took in her surroundings, before she took a few steps further in and inspected the closest shelf. And then, she saw a book that she and Isabelle used to read together when they were younger, before Isabelle started courting. Little Women. It was, or had been, one of Bree's favorite books. However, it was... well, it was on quite a high shelf. And Bree, being as small as she was, couldn't quite reach it. Nope, not even on tiptoes. She sighed, scanning the room for someone that looked like they would be willing to help her out. She ended up going over (cautiously) to a person, and tapped them carefully on the shoulder. "Uh, excuse me?" she asked, a slightly timid hint to her voice as she pointed up toward the book. "I can't reach it. Could you, uhm, please help me out?" | [atrb=width,140] words , 722 words tagged , opennnn! :3 notes , Bree's debut~ |
| [cs=2] TEMPLATE BY CALIFORNIA DREAMING OF CAUTION 2.0 |