neverland | misc

𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒛𝒆𝒓𝒐. collateral bruises

00   }   track zero
collateral bruises

it doesn't happen often, but sometimes, under the blankets, under the pillows, under the dimness of her blinking bedroom lights, she closes her eyes in an attempt to find sleep, but it evades her. here, in these hours between the night and the day, on the precipice of a new dawn, where everything is still and quiet – sleep is unreachable. (here, in the dead of the night, sleep is a snake – it slithers out of her grasp and rushes to hide wherever it cannot be found.)

on these nights, all she can do is stare at the ceiling of her bedroom – white, achingly white, and gray where light does not reach it. she thinks of touching it and how it might burn. (her tainted fingertips. oh, all that they have done. all that they have caused. all that they have killed.) she thinks of icarus, and how his story was told in hushed whispers in her term three english literature class. she thinks of how he had fallen. (his wings. of how they melted off his back and threw him down into the dark depths of the ocean floor.)

but on these nights, thoughts are not the only things keeping her company. someone stands, too, in the corner of her bedroom, blindingly white against the white of her similarly washed-out wallpaper. (they do not have a face. she cannot look at them for long; her eyes water every time she tries.)

so she looks down instead, where they stand barefooted on old wood. she scans the form from the bottom, where callouses cover the balls of their feet, up to their ankles, up to their calves, up to their knees – where she can see bruises lie, scattered, on the surface of the right.

in the dead of the night, something persuades her to speak.

who hurt you? she asks.

it's a moment of silence – five seconds of stillness. (but they speak.)

me.

before she can stop herself, she asks again.

you?

you. they echo, in a mocking imitation of her inquiry. (and then they disappear, as light filters in through her bedroom blinds with the promise of a new day.)

like always, after a long night of nothing, she pulls her legs out of her blankets to embrace the newfound heat of the morning. only, this time, she pauses. her breath lodges itself in her chest.

bruises line the surface of her right leg, ironically black and purple and yellow, colorful in the places she didn't ask them to be. there are echoes in her mind.

(who hurt you?)

(me.)

a   }   about me

infp-t. hufflepuff. lawful neutral.
leo. writer. designer. coffee enthusiast.

b   }   notes

so this was a thing i wrote for a writing challenge created by raita (BalladPhoenix) and chloe (TDOROKI)! basically, writers are challenged to write about themselves like how they would an oc in at least one to two paragraphs, and then list some stuff about yourself afterwards. we also have a discord server, btw!!! it's called the writer's hub and if you wanna join, feel free any of the members for the invite link <3

               (✧) okay, so about the thing i wrote itself, i mostly focused on my insecurities, actually. not sure if that was the main point of the challenge, but i did use myself as a prompt, and while i kind of missed the point, i don't think i'm... too far from the mark? i mostly reflected on how it's usually me sparking my insecurities, not anyone else, and how i'm kind of the real antagonist to my protagonist lmao. (also, i included the faceless idea, because i don't think i have somewhat of a style in either writing or designing or even personality-wise??? kind of figuring that out, still, so yes. i had to include the faceless concept in this thing.) also mentioned the bruise i have rn! got it from playing badminton; when i was going to put the racket by my side i somehow brought my hand down way too fast and way too quick and way too hard that it hit my right leg and lmaoooo guess what, i have a yellow thing there now. i'm kind of crazy, i know <3 i had to mention it because it fit and it was funny HAHAHAHAHAHA