08-23-2018, 11:50 AM
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as love filled night gives way to day
Ghosts? Hazel believed in ghosts. She believed in ghosts that haunted her dreams and warped them into nightmares. She believed in ghosts that clung to her so fiercely they were impossible to forget. Because Hazel's ghosts weren't always people: sometimes they were the metallic scent of a closet filled with chemicals. Sometimes they were the echoes of glass shattering against the floor. Sometimes they were phantom pains that made her paws twitch like a reaction. Most of the time, they were of her past.
Hazel didn't want to go on a ghost hunt; she'd rather keep them locked away in her brain where they belonged. But she tagged along with Oni's seance anyway, taking a seat somewhere on her own where she could wrap her tail around her paws and convince herself that the boy couldn't literally summon Mother or Titanium. "What would you need salt for?" She asked finally, Zjarr's odd comment jarring her haunted stupor. Willingly trying to distract herself, she tried to focus on why the hell one would need salt for a ghost. She jumped when Oni shouted, but it paled in comparison to the shriek that fell from her lips when Bastille popped out of nowhere.
"Quid opus est ut te facere sentire?" Hazel demanded, golden eyes flaring as she wished she had something to throw at him. "Et mihi est cor impetum!" She would have gone on, the Latin pouring from her mouth quicker than her English normally would, but then Anakin appeared, claws out and a fierce yell on his tongue. Hazel jumped again, another yelp tearing itself from her throat. "Why do you all do that?" She wheezed out, leaning forward until her forehead hit the blanket.
(Quid opus est ut te facere sentire? - why do you feel the need to do that?
Et mihi est cor impetum! - you gave me a heart attack!)
Hazel didn't want to go on a ghost hunt; she'd rather keep them locked away in her brain where they belonged. But she tagged along with Oni's seance anyway, taking a seat somewhere on her own where she could wrap her tail around her paws and convince herself that the boy couldn't literally summon Mother or Titanium. "What would you need salt for?" She asked finally, Zjarr's odd comment jarring her haunted stupor. Willingly trying to distract herself, she tried to focus on why the hell one would need salt for a ghost. She jumped when Oni shouted, but it paled in comparison to the shriek that fell from her lips when Bastille popped out of nowhere.
"Quid opus est ut te facere sentire?" Hazel demanded, golden eyes flaring as she wished she had something to throw at him. "Et mihi est cor impetum!" She would have gone on, the Latin pouring from her mouth quicker than her English normally would, but then Anakin appeared, claws out and a fierce yell on his tongue. Hazel jumped again, another yelp tearing itself from her throat. "Why do you all do that?" She wheezed out, leaning forward until her forehead hit the blanket.
(Quid opus est ut te facere sentire? - why do you feel the need to do that?
Et mihi est cor impetum! - you gave me a heart attack!)
© MADI
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WITH EVERY HEARTBEAT I HAVE LEFT
i will defend your every breath; i'll do better