"This feels too much like a fever dream to be real"
MARLEY ROXANNE was wrongfully convicted of a crime. A crime that a twisted alter, the worse part of herself, committed in self defense, an act Marley never participated in. She was used to taking t...
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WHEN MARLEY FRONTED, THE STENCH OF BLOOD WAS THE FIRST THING HER CONSCIOUS MIND REGISTERED. A timid gasp slipped over her lips as she hesitantly looked down to her open hands shakily turning them to examine every ounce of the dried blood. She stumbled, back pressed against the front door of the motel room as tears started to fall from her tired gaze.
Slowly, Marley sunk to the floor, resting her head against her knees as trembling sobs slipped free of her chapped lips. She was sore, unbelievably sore with every muscle in her body screaming for sleep to accompany her painted thoughts and beliefs regarding the alter. Why couldn't Widow be normal? Why couldn't she just be a normal person when Marley needed her to be?
As she hesitantly looked, she spotted an uncapped marker sitting by her feet, ink drying out. Through her warm tears, after inhaling a sharp breath she pulled her pant leg up to see a poorly scribbled out message upon the darkened skin: Harcourt says you got the day off tomorrow. The final word was dragged out, a black line falling down her leg. Clearly a result of Marley fronting before Widow could perfectly finish her little message.
Marley was almost grateful for that. It gave her more time to wallow in self pity.
Shakily, she pulled herself up, still leaning against the front door. Her breathing trembled with each sound, footsteps weak against the carpeted floors as she slowly drifted to the bathroom. Stumbling through the door, she quickly wrapped her hands around the sink, looking up through her bloody hair to the large window. Her natural hair colour was lost amongst the large clumps of dried blood that stuck strands of her hair together in disgusting tangles.
Loud sobs passed her chapped lips as she pulled her fingers through the tangled hair, trying to seperate the long strands. Her reflection watched with a cold glare, blood stained cheeks drenched with tears and lips trembling with every sharp intake of breath.
"Stupid... this was all a mistake," she spoke coldly, watching her reflection in search of her alter. "Is this what I get for wanting a chance?" With hands clenched around the sink, Marley leant forward with a narrowed glare focused on the mirror. "Are you trying to teach me a lesson? Is that what this is-!"
A loud knock interrupted her screaming, making Marley freeze. She shakily looked over her shoulder, peering through the half open bathroom door. The large windows of the motel were sealed by the large curtains but she could see the faint outline of someone against the material casted by the gentle light outside.
"Uh, Marley?" Came a familiar tone, cutting through the gentle knocking that got quieter when Marley managed to ground herself in reality and ignore the intrusive thoughts of her alter. "You there? Hello!" Adrian purposely dragged out his greeting like a child forcefully greeting a parent's friend.
