[ s c a r s ] and -SOUVENIRS-

[secret]

[ s i l e n c e r e m i n d s m e ]
[ t h a t i ’ m a s e c r e t ]

Roxy looked over the water, blinking and inhaling slowly. The cold air stung her throat and lungs, but she didn’t really feel it. Her eyelids closed over her clear blue-grey eyes as she attempted momentarily to block at reality. Thump. Oh, look! Bing! Reality. A large feline form had just lain down beside Roxy and her head was resting across her legs. It’s partner was probably lurking somewhere in the brush, watching for some unsuspecting thing to pounce on. The panther gave something of a sigh, glancing to Roxy as if asking why she was so melancholy.

"You should be used to it, Candela." Roxy shifted her weight back onto her elbows, then lowered all the way onto the layer of leaves that covered the grounds. Why hello. Talking yourself again?—You don’t really exist--And you seem to be overlooking the fact you don't either.—Shut up. These were the mental conversations Roxy oftentimes had with herself. Her multiple mental personalities were not always the nicest house guests. Roxy shook her head lightly to momentarily rid herself of the voices, but then other voices, not her own, came back to her. What fun for a Friday morning, eh?

Roxy lifted herself back into a sitting position, moving Candela briefly as she stood, grabbed her messenger bag and guitar, and moved all of five yards to duck through the long, barren branches of a willow and lean against its trunk. Candela came to sit beside her as she pulled her guitar onto her lap. She began to strum, singing lightly under her breath to slow, jazzy tune. Her hair was lifted by a small, sharp breeze, the teal highlights in it weaving through the black to create an interesting pattern. She shivered slightly, pshrugging her coat into a warmer position.

"Summertime and the living is easy.
Fish are jumping and the cotton is high.
You’re rich and your ma is good lookin’
So hush little baby, don’t you cry…"

Roxy eventually finished her song, letting her hand stray to stroke Candela for a moment before her hands returned to the stringers to play a different song. The song was meant to be played with a big swing band, but sadly none was available on Roxy’s whim. The song, however, sounded just as sad and lonely without one, she thought, as her lips parted to sing.

"It was down at old Joe’s barroom, on the corner by the square.
They were servin’ the drinks as usual and the regular crowd was there.
On my left stood big Joe McKennedy; her eyes were bloodshot and red.
He looked to the crowd around him, and these were the words he said:
I’ve been down to St. James Infirmary, to see my baby there.
She was stretched out on a long white table, lookin’ so cold and so pale.
So when I die, I want you to bury me in my three-piece suite and my Stetson hat,
and put a twenty dollar gold piece on my watch chain,
so all my friends’ll know that I died standin’ high."

Roxy tapped one foot in the leaves, her eyes closed as she let the music and Candela’s and her own breathing fill her mind, trying to drown out her thoughts. There’s a wall between you, like the one you built around your heart; so high, so wide, so un-fucking-breakable, no matter who tries to get through. Why the hell—Quiet—No. Why the hell—Shut up.

Hmm, so I took her out to the graveyard, on a horse-drawn hack.
There’ll be three people goin’ out there, only two come.
Let her go, let her go,
God bless her, wherever she may be.
She may search ther whole world over,
but she will never find a sweet man like me.

Roxy opened her eyes again as her fingers played the last few measures, her eyes straying to the trail when she heard the soft sound of snow being walked on. Candela lifted her head from its resting position, her ears perked up as she moved to the other side of Roxy, standing and guarding her until she made sure whatever was coming wasn’t dangerous. Roxy let out a wistful laugh, continuing to finish the song as she turned her head back out to the water.

[ t o o d i r t y t o k e e p ]

Reserved for;;
Silace

[S I L A C E]

Sometimes that mountain you`ve been climbing is just a grain of sand
And what you`ve been out there searching for forever is in your hands
When you figure out that love is all that matters, after all it makes everything else seem so small

<sub>Man, had she ever been waiting for a day like this. Finally, a morning with no classes. She'd waited a whole... three or four days for this. Not like that was an insane amount of time or anything, but she tends to get bored easily when she's doing the same thing every single day. Now was her chance for some alone time.

Silace stepped out from a set of doors on the school situated closest to the lake. She felt the rush of cold air swarm in to the entrance like there's no tomorrow. A few strands of her hair got in her face from the circling wind, and the girl hooked them behind an ear with a soft, pink mitten-covered hand. She was suddenly glad she'd put on a sweater before she came out here, otherwise she would've been getting an insane amount of goosebumps crawling up her arms. Unless they were there anyway; She didn't care.

Silace took a step onto the ground, the frozen grass crinkling under her feet, before she began having second thoughts. It was pretty cold out there. But then again, being one who's used to the idea of never being cold, of course she'd be a wimp over the thin layer of this white powdery stuff. But she'd been waiting for a chance at fresh air for the longest time, so she closed the doors behind her and ventured on towards the lake.

Glancing around, she didn't see many people out, aside from the few who had the guts to 'brave the storm'. Silace smiled, realizing she was one of them. Not like that was anything to boast about, mind you, it was just some sort of mind-over-matter trick she was trying to pull on herself, so that maybe she'll be alright with this. "It's only going to get colder," she thought to herself. Pretty soon, this weather will be nice. Maybe.

When she reached the lake, she felt the breeze coming off of it. It was nice for some reason, even though it made it even colder. A whopping wind chill of... wait for it... 23•F (-5•C)!! Yes. It was drastic. But something about the noise it would make Silace liked. Yeah, she's a little hypocritical in her own sense. So sue her.

The strumming of a guitar amidst the whistles of the wind reached her, and Silace took a glance about to try and find where it was coming from. Her bad vision didn't exactly help her scope out who was nearby, but her curiosity drove her to it's direction, trying to see what it was. So what if curiosity killed the cat. 'Curiosity killed the cat, but Satisfaction brought it back'.</sub>