Old Clocks Run Off Acid Fluid and Batteries
One
She's staring at the case where the quite literally life sized doll was sitting almost forlornly in its cage. Not even a twitch could be seen from the doll.
No thoughts are running through her mind as she's sitting, back straight. Zoee isn't interested in peculiarities, such as the sitting on a chair with a back straight and hands clasped on lap. That's why she does such things.
You see, Zoee isn't the normal kind of girl. You could see that just by the way she dressed. I mean, who wears tights with capris? Zoee does. But in other ways, she's not exactly different entirely, she does want love, and a relationship, and of course love, she does also want some friends and love. So she's not completely different.
It's not her fault her mother dropped her on her head. More than once. It's her mother's fault that she was baking, and didn't hear when Zoee accidently fell out of the crib. So you see, Zoee is entirely defenseless to the atrocities that have been committed on her, yes?
She's in an awkward position now, her hand is curved onto her chin and her back is also slightly arched. Though she doesn't look uncomfortable, it's the way she twitches every five seconds that give way to the hint to a very difficult position that she is currently residually accompanying.
The glass case is covering her from her most prize possession, her life's bane, per se. But not really, because she rather likes this piece of toy she has acquired herself.
The white room is gathering dust slowly as the hours are ticking on, her eyes aren't leaving the case of the doll. She was putting a blight on the once happy room that was considering her home; her sanctuary.
Now it was just a room where memories came to die, no matter how morbidly annoying that was, it was so positively true, that even she, Zoee, couldn't stand. And she was once the epitome of a deceased kid.
If that makes any sense. Her id wants, and what her id wants, her id gets.
The part of her mind that was inborn with a constant need to be wanted was slowly giving, fading away into an intense need.
She is a dyad. She's a meeting of two minds unto herself. Will hath to bring pain and sadness to the lives of anyone she interacts on any daily basis and the need for a comforting mind is not behind her capabilities, and she would just love for it to all stop.
All of the annoyingness, to be specific.
No thoughts are running through her mind as she's sitting, back straight. Zoee isn't interested in peculiarities, such as the sitting on a chair with a back straight and hands clasped on lap. That's why she does such things.
You see, Zoee isn't the normal kind of girl. You could see that just by the way she dressed. I mean, who wears tights with capris? Zoee does. But in other ways, she's not exactly different entirely, she does want love, and a relationship, and of course love, she does also want some friends and love. So she's not completely different.
It's not her fault her mother dropped her on her head. More than once. It's her mother's fault that she was baking, and didn't hear when Zoee accidently fell out of the crib. So you see, Zoee is entirely defenseless to the atrocities that have been committed on her, yes?
She's in an awkward position now, her hand is curved onto her chin and her back is also slightly arched. Though she doesn't look uncomfortable, it's the way she twitches every five seconds that give way to the hint to a very difficult position that she is currently residually accompanying.
The glass case is covering her from her most prize possession, her life's bane, per se. But not really, because she rather likes this piece of toy she has acquired herself.
The white room is gathering dust slowly as the hours are ticking on, her eyes aren't leaving the case of the doll. She was putting a blight on the once happy room that was considering her home; her sanctuary.
Now it was just a room where memories came to die, no matter how morbidly annoying that was, it was so positively true, that even she, Zoee, couldn't stand. And she was once the epitome of a deceased kid.
If that makes any sense. Her id wants, and what her id wants, her id gets.
The part of her mind that was inborn with a constant need to be wanted was slowly giving, fading away into an intense need.
She is a dyad. She's a meeting of two minds unto herself. Will hath to bring pain and sadness to the lives of anyone she interacts on any daily basis and the need for a comforting mind is not behind her capabilities, and she would just love for it to all stop.
All of the annoyingness, to be specific.
♠ ♠ ♠
For Damon, cause I was talkingto him when I listened to the song
and ergo, him. =)
loveisthenewblack, cause she edited
this, and therefore, she rocks.