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Drip ,
Drip ,
Drip. . .
The sound of water dripping into a small pool of cold yet warm water , slowly and harshly inside of a dark room , only to be accompany with a frozen silent and a ragged porcelain doll.
Her skin , tainted with mud and dirt , showing that she has been abandon by her owner when she fell into a puddle of mut. Messy and rigid long brown hair , showing that no one has taking care of her. Scattered white experiment clothes with a few holes and dirt decorating it , showing that no one wants to play with her anymore. Empty pool of (e/c) colored eyes , showing not a single creatures living in there.
A doll-like face was showen only from a faint of warmth and transparent light of a singular candle , waiting to run out of fuel and gone into nothingness. She hug her body as she lean against a wall like she was hugging to someone one last time before goodbye.
Moonlight doesn't show itself through behind the walls nor the ceiling. Not a single thing tells her that it's day or night or when the time nor days had passed.
" Big brother , I'm still waiting for you and yet you are nowhere to be seen from this cage "
Her voice only a hoarse faint of whisper like a doll with broken tape inside it's throat and only white noises to be found when it talks.
Broken
Broken
Broken
Broken is what she is. Broken is how she was born into. Broken is what she will be until the end. Broken is what she is since she first opened her eyes. Broken is what she supposed to be. If broken was a person , it will be her. To be broken is her fate and destiny.
" If you're weak , you don't belong in the Port Mafia.
If you're soft , you don't belong in the dark.
If you wanting to reach that hope from the light , you are not a flower of darkness.
If you can't kill , you are not a red spider lily.
If you have a single sign of light in your eyes ,
you don't belong here with your big brother. "
What Mori told him keep playing in her head everyday , non-stop── like a broken record tape that play in loop , only to be filled with whisper from demons and silent scream from the desperate lost souls.
She is like a porcelain doll , fragile , easy to be broken , do what her owner told her to do , and easy to be thrown away into a trash can and to be replaced with a brand new one. Her life is like a candle , being kept away when not used and will work and eat herself 'till death. Not a single curved entities of humanity craved in her shell nor her soul. She only speak in front of a person only when she was allowed too.
