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trans_92011-09-04 11:24 pm
vissernone.livejournal.com) wrote in trans_92011-09-04 11:24 pm
An Unexploded Shell Inside a Cell [Open]
She thought her life would be different by now, but she's a prisoner again. Voluntary, she guesses, which makes it a little bit different than the first time. At least she can blink on her own this time. Not that she's using her body to do much good.
Ironically, she almost always looked better when she was a more total prisoner. Without her makeup and hair clips and changes of clothes to arrange herself into some approximation of health, without even a mirror to confirm her suspicions, she looks a wreck. Dark circles line her reddened eyes; her hair is unbrushed and falls in tangled clumps over her face; chapped, bloodied lips and fingernails bitten down to the flesh speak to her uneasy transition back into captivity.
Eva's given up all attempts to look 'okay'. She ripped a man's face open with her bare fingers. She's been a long road away from 'okay' for a while now, but she spent too long mistaking her anger and stubbornness for strength and resilience to recognize it. She's wised up now.
She really wants a drink right now. Instead she has some books - selected poems by Pablo Neruda and an anthology of poetry by women poets in the Andes - and a pillow and blanket. She's curled up on the cot with the former book in her hand, but drifting in and out of sleep. Her breath comes lazy and heavy as she alternately reads, dreams, and watches the door to the brig with heavy-lidded eyes, looking for nothing.
Ironically, she almost always looked better when she was a more total prisoner. Without her makeup and hair clips and changes of clothes to arrange herself into some approximation of health, without even a mirror to confirm her suspicions, she looks a wreck. Dark circles line her reddened eyes; her hair is unbrushed and falls in tangled clumps over her face; chapped, bloodied lips and fingernails bitten down to the flesh speak to her uneasy transition back into captivity.
Eva's given up all attempts to look 'okay'. She ripped a man's face open with her bare fingers. She's been a long road away from 'okay' for a while now, but she spent too long mistaking her anger and stubbornness for strength and resilience to recognize it. She's wised up now.
She really wants a drink right now. Instead she has some books - selected poems by Pablo Neruda and an anthology of poetry by women poets in the Andes - and a pillow and blanket. She's curled up on the cot with the former book in her hand, but drifting in and out of sleep. Her breath comes lazy and heavy as she alternately reads, dreams, and watches the door to the brig with heavy-lidded eyes, looking for nothing.
no subject
Perhaps it's best if Cassie goes now. Eva's not oblivious to sadness, at least not other people's, and if Cassie goes and takes care of the house she could put Eva out of sight and out of mind. Unfortunately, Eva thinks that's the best place for herself at the moment. "Send my regards to the other denizens of the house, will you?"
no subject
It's not as simple as out of sight, out of mind with Cassie, but she offered no argument at Eva's goodbye. Given how hard it was for her to hide her own emotions at the moment, she feared that she was only adding to a bad situation and she didn't wish to burden Eva with anything more. She offered a smile that she hoped was convincing. "Of course. And you don't need to worry about a thing. Everything is under control. I'll be sure to fetch the wine that you asked me to get." What she does with the rest of it is up for debate though, Eva. Your secret is out.
"Take care of yourself, Eva," she said softly. With that she took her leave sadly, heading towards the house to grab the wine that Eva had asked her to fetch.