The pace of her walk increased with each step, the fears of vulnerability fuelling the rapid acceleration. The scene was nothing unusual, a swarm of white and green uniformity, with specks of colour provided by the bags. she could have been just one of the many others who were woken up by the annoying shrill of the punctual side-piece, to be greeted by the warm smile of a mother, which brightened the day more than the blinding rays of heaven. But she wasn’t. Apollo never forgot to ride his chariot, but today she couldn’t seem to sense its aura.
Who was to be blamed? Herself? She had her flaws, and was struggling with the burden of keeping her occasional spits of fury away. What about the woman, her creator? She was already walking on thin ice, diffusing the irrational rifts erupting between the two she adored the most; one with whom she had been tied with for the rest of her life, and the girl that had inherited his fire.
The tension had crept upon them, a creeping vine slithering its way up their slender figures. Upon reaching its destination, it had revealed the sharp canines it possessed. Diving straight in, shredding and thawing, it had left nothing but spiteful phrases and wounded spirits.
She now ran, deviating from her usual path, walking on which had been a daily ritual for her. Bolting straight in, she locked the door of the tiny box. The absence of light didn’t matter, what use was the external source when her beacon of love had been extinguished. Phenyl had always threatened to take over her senses in there, but today the reek of her shame suffocated her, forcing itself into her mouth, her nose, her eyes..
The annoying shrill was heard again, breaking the curse conjured by her conscience. She eagerly looked up, only to realise that the day hadn’t decided to begin again, no, she wasn’t back at home, it hadn’t been a dream. Understandable, since she didn’t deserve pity, she knew she never did. Walking out, she continued on, the mask of a smile for the few suspicious eyes in the crowd of unobservant.