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Post by aidan grace smith on Jan 28, 2012 11:40:05 GMT -5
Adian sat alone on a stump that over looked Lake Elisabeth. It was her day off, and she knew of nothing better to do than to come watch the mere-people swim gracefully under the water. The sun's rays reflected off the water, making it glow. They also warmed Adian's skin. She was out here to think, to clear her mind. It had been awhile since she had visited this place, and it looked more beautiful than before.
She hummed along with the song that played in her head. Her eyes watched the lake's surface, even if the mere-people only came up once and awhile, the lake was still beautiful. The quiet wasn't overwhelming, but she did wish for a friend. Loneliness was something she could stand, but sometimes she wanted to hear stories from others instead of just swimming in her own thoughts.
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Post by marcus owen foster on Feb 1, 2012 19:11:56 GMT -5
Marc wandered to the lake, dizzy from the pills and the blood dripping down his arms. He hugged them to himself, walking down the winding path. All he could think of was how bad he wanted his mom, how he wanted to hear her voice again, see her face again. He was tired of looking at Shaun and seeing his dead mother in her face, her spitting image.
He coughed, eyeing someone familiar sitting by the lake. He walked over, sitting down next to her. He pulled his arms away from his chest and they only started bleeding again. He watched the blood trickling down his arms, wondering how much longer it would be before he passed out, or finally died.
"... want my moma..." He said quietly, gazing over at the lake.
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Post by aidan grace smith on Feb 1, 2012 19:25:06 GMT -5
Adian watched as a familiar face sat down beside her. She looked at the reflection in the water. "Marc?" She turned and looked at the boy, her eyes wide when she saw the blood dripping down his arms. "Oh, Marc!" She turned quickly, looking at him, seeing the dazy haze look in his eyes. She immediantly wrapped her arms around him, not caring about the blood that got on her clothes.
"Please let me help you." Without waiting for a respond, she pulled her t-shirt off. She reached down to the bag she had carried with her, pulling out a knife she had brought to cut up an apple. She began to cut at that collar, before pulling it apart. She cut another half. Adian stood from the stump, and dipped a half of he shirt in the water. "Be still.." Her voice was hushed as she gently rubbed at the blood on his arms.
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Post by marcus owen foster on Feb 1, 2012 19:55:12 GMT -5
Marc held his arms out for her, knowing it wouldn't do any good if she stopped the bleeding or not. He sat there silently, watching her bandage his arms with little interest. He was starting to get sleepy, the pills starting to kick in. He bit his lip, knowing if he passed out, she would get them to pump his stomach.
"... wanna see moma..." He said again, looking up at her. He looked down again, hugging himself again. He looked down at his blood soaked shirt and thought nothing of it. He didn't want anything Shaun gave to him anyways. He hadn't noticed until recently that he didn't look like the others, even the one they claimed to be his twin. His eyes weren't like theirs.
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Post by aidan grace smith on Feb 2, 2012 20:08:02 GMT -5
Aidan wrapped the torn up t-shirt around the cuts before sitting next to him, and pulling him close. "I.. I'm sorry.." Her motherly instinct shown as she rubbed his back, trying to calm him down. "I know you want to see her.. but this isn't the way to do it, Marc. She wouldn't want you to do this.." Aidan looked down at her own hands, the blood was begining to dry. She dipped the soaked half t-shirt into the water again before rubbing at her own arms, then tossed the t-shirt away. Marc had been a patient she had cared for, he had almost killed himself.. A terrible story.
Aidan cared for the boy, he was talented. Most nurses had brushed him off as rude when he never responded to them, but Aidan never cared. Him not answering, never bothered her. She was just one of those people who talked, whether you responded or not. Even if you weren't listening, she would still talk. Not with annoying stories, or constantly bitching at the person she talked to. She just made a conversation up in her head and used people's body movements as their reaction. "What.. what happened?" She asked finally.
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Post by marcus owen foster on Feb 3, 2012 3:34:30 GMT -5
Marc sat there a moment, his head swimming. He honestly felt like he was going to lose conciousness at any moment. "Took... a bunch'a sleepin' pills..." He drawled, starting to pick at the make-shift bandages on his arms.
"Moma.. She died.. Bunch'a men.. they shot her... Y'look like my moma.." He said, looking up at her. And in his foggy state of mind, she really did look like his mom. He laid back in the grass, closing his eyes as his breathing slowed.
"'N my moma.. She told me.. 'I'ma always be proud'a you, Ma-arcus..'"
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Post by aidan grace smith on Feb 6, 2012 8:20:28 GMT -5
Aidan listened, letting her arm fall away as he laied back in the grass. "If you're tired, we should really leave. My place isn't to far and I have a guest bed, would you like to take a nap there." She asked. Her breath cut off for a momment though, as he told Aidan of how she looked like his mom. Not because she thought it was rude, it just surprised her.
She took him by the hand, pulling gently to see if he wanted to go or not. "I could cook you some food, give you something to drink. Maybe then you'll start to feel better." Her voice soft and soothing, as she stood still pulling on his hand gentlely.
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