Post by redd on Apr 22, 2011 12:27:55 GMT -5
Redd had hated many things, people, and objects. Nowdays, however, she hated the simplier things that reminded her everyday of where she was and what had happened. The impossibly-white rooms and halls, the faces of doctors that passed her and told her she was making progress. Most especially the way the silver bracelet was shackled to her wrist with her name age and another number engraved into. The flourescent lights reflected it too easier and drew her attention to it often.
She wasn't insane. She'd merely . . . had a slight relapse. Tryint o adjust back into some semblance of normality was not her favorite thing to do. With no magic, her hair reverted back to a dark brunette, and the nightmares that had suddenly decided to plague her of distance faces, death, and despair, she found it a struggle to get her life back on track. And she was - she was already counting the days until she was free to walk around without a nurse and two bodyguards trailing after her every move.
And perhaps she'd get normal clothes. The hospital sweatpants and hoodie she had thrown on because of how cold she had gotten still covered most of her, but they were itchy and made her skin crawl. It was the most normal clothes they could give her, apparently. Were they afraid she was going to kill herself with them? What a silly notion.
Arms folded across her chest, Redd sighed softly and moved to stand in front of the window of her room. It wasn't a large room, but it fit her nice enough and she was grateful she was in a room by herself. They'd put her alone, just in case she'd decide to go crazy. In fact, they'd thrown her into a mostly empty hall of rooms.
Isolation did not suit her well.
Reaching up, she pressed a hand to the glass pane of the window - which was painted shut - and let the coolness of it wash over her fingers, the sunlight warming her skin.