𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐀; 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟔

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┌──☾❀*̥˚─────❀*̥˚─┐

❝𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟔: 𝐑𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐀𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭❞

└───❀*̥˚─────❀*̥˚☾┘

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘✧ ✦ ✧∘∙⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

You slowly set down your hand, letting your muscles rest as you sat in front of your guzheng, the music stopping completely as you stared off into space. Your room was still quite dark, the light coming from the cracks of your door as you stared out at the window, the colors of the sky bleeding into the walls. The leaves from your garden blowing into the air and spreading across the estate as your maids quickly brushed them away, their talking much too quiet and distant for you to hear.

You could see the garden from your room, the view being quite nice yet lonely despite the occupants who gather at the tree's leaves. Rabbits crowded the corners as they kissed each other, rubbing their ears as they played in the grass while you watched from afar, seeing their happiness expressed through the stomping of their feet and eager bodies that run wild.

You loomed over your guzheng, your eyes focusing on the trails of flowers that were painted into its body, the dips and curves of each crevice embedding itself into your mind as you bit your lips.

Everything was about studying.

Grace and elegance.

Everything that you hated and wanted to abandon desperately were the only things you could reach for.

You slowly moved your hand, your fingertips brushing against the strings as you plucked at them. Your hair dripping at your sides while your lips stayed tightly pressed against each other, the skin threatening to break under the stress. Your clothes pooled on the floor like overspilling water, the endless layers crushing your insides as you take slow, deep breaths.

Everything was an endless cycle of expectations that you may never live up to.

You parted your lips from its constraints, your voice slowly flapping its wings as it took flight from your throat, singing a song that you could only hear from the very core of your heart. Your fingers plucking at the strings as you fluttered your eyes closed, listening to the sound of your heart correlate itself with the music of your stringed instrument.

Your heart yearns for the outside world, your soul desperate to flee from your body as you felt yourself become separated from your outer identity. Your spirit resides in your song while your body acts as a puppet to the will that you held.

You were not a Goddess or a woman, you were simply a small, fragile child living within an adult's world.

Your voice cracked slightly, it's higher pitch sound breaking through the walls as it slipped into the air. The strings plucked at every second, drowning out the noise of the world you lived in as you dived deeper into the emptiness inside of your body.

You wanted more in life, more than what you could get in this tiny estate you were forced to call home. It wasn't warm or comforting as the look the younger Sohma had given you on that night which conceived happiness from the suffering of two people, their hearts joining as one for only a few minutes as they were forcefully ripped apart by the world.

Your tongue felt dry while your eyes opened slowly to look out the window. The source of your song becoming more and more fragile as it broke apart, the words wavering with every syllable which flowed out of your lips like water.

𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐀 [𝒚.𝒔]Where stories live. Discover now