08-02-2018, 05:40 PM
[align=center]
DELILAH EVERGARDEN
trans femme ♥ tanglewood ♥ 15 m/o
[W]iskerDELILAH EVERGARDEN
trans femme ♥ tanglewood ♥ 15 m/o
[div style="background-color:#F0B1DB;width:90%; overflow: stretch;text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt;"]]Group therapy. Something that Delilah herself knew that she needed, but never bothered to go to. She was stuck in her head constantly, and the paranoia that constantly haunted her, lurching over her shoulder like a helicopter parent.. It never went away. The voices, the crying. She remembered it vaguely, when her lover had been taken from her. It was like a quick, eager bite of fate. It clawed at her heart, begging to be let loose. The memories, however vague they were, enraptured the voices in her head. The soft moans that kept her company at night, despite the cold side of her bed that she couldn't quite confront ever again.
He was gone, and Delilah didn't save him. She was useless.
But somehow, someway, Delilah had made it to the group therapy hosted by one of the medics. It didn't help her that the food seemed just as unappetizing as everything else recently since she had gotten caught in the trap. She couldn't trust anyone, the food could be poisoned. Maybe everyone else was just immune to the poison, but she wasn't. She knew she didn't have the bloodline to not die. How hasn't she died already, anyways?
The voice of Cavalrychoir was like a song in her head, the only thing that could calm the screams and echos of her conscious. She wanted him here, she wanted to see the lynx again. Was that too much to ask, for one person? But then again, Choir would get hurt because of her. Everyone would, one day. She was a broken record, playing again and again on repeats that she just couldn't bare to give anymore.
But Delilah stayed silent, eerily so. She remained a prisoner in her head the whole time everyone else ate, the voices of others around her a mere blunder. Lost, magenta eyes found the so-called therapist of this session, and she turned to Beck for a moment, trying to find some sort of comfort in the male which had been so comforting when she joined. Why was he here, anyways?
He was gone, and Delilah didn't save him. She was useless.
But somehow, someway, Delilah had made it to the group therapy hosted by one of the medics. It didn't help her that the food seemed just as unappetizing as everything else recently since she had gotten caught in the trap. She couldn't trust anyone, the food could be poisoned. Maybe everyone else was just immune to the poison, but she wasn't. She knew she didn't have the bloodline to not die. How hasn't she died already, anyways?
The voice of Cavalrychoir was like a song in her head, the only thing that could calm the screams and echos of her conscious. She wanted him here, she wanted to see the lynx again. Was that too much to ask, for one person? But then again, Choir would get hurt because of her. Everyone would, one day. She was a broken record, playing again and again on repeats that she just couldn't bare to give anymore.
But Delilah stayed silent, eerily so. She remained a prisoner in her head the whole time everyone else ate, the voices of others around her a mere blunder. Lost, magenta eyes found the so-called therapist of this session, and she turned to Beck for a moment, trying to find some sort of comfort in the male which had been so comforting when she joined. Why was he here, anyways?