Jul. 13th, 2011
Jul. 9th, 2011
Twas the night before Christmas and all through the asylum ...
It was surprisingly noisy in Arkham on the famous Eve. Because of the holidays, some of the prisoners were allowed out of their cells and in the lunch room for a very 'merry' Christmas 'party'. Some of the older prisoners were in charge of it and they were able to get some decorations up and treats passed out. Not all the prisoners wanted to be out though. Some were still snuggled in their cell, dreading the next day. The asylum rarely got visitors but sometimes, certain families came for the holidays. It was only that much worse for the ones who didn't. To the ones that were without visitors, watching the happy ones was only a painful reminder of what they didn't have.
Which was why Rosalie made the conscious choice to stay in solitary confinement for the majority of the holidays. It wasn't anything strange or new to her. She had spent days and weeks in confinement before but it hadn't been a voluntary choice. The staff had allowed her some nice things to keep with her, at least; A small bright red blanket that was more itchy than comfortable, A Christmas Carol book and a week old chocolate bar from a well-known store outside of the asylum. None of it she truly appreciated. The blanket, the book or the stupid candy bar. She couldn't. There was no meaning or thought behind the 'gifts'. No love.
Of course, the room itself wasn't that cheery either. The solitary confinement was not meant to be luxurious or comfortable but if one needed some alone time, it was perfect. It was a room made entirely out of white. The walls, the floor, the door. Everything. There was no window to see out of and no bed to sit upon. It would drive a normal person insane.
If said person wasn't insane already.
She sat curled up in the far left corner, her legs tucked against her chest as she stared mindlessly at a crack in the floor. Her thoughts? Not as idle as her stare. Rosalie tried to remember Christmases past, how it used to be before Arkham and before her stepmother. She could remember elaborate decorations strewn all across the house. Her father would spend an entire day putting up lights on the tree and outside on the house. His face she could barely remember. She sometimes wished she had a picture to help her memory. It was hard enough to know he was gone but it was harder still to realize that she was slowly but surely forgetting him.
Her left eye gave an involuntary twitch. And then another. But she didn't move. Just stared and blinked when her eyes became too dry. She wasn't sure how long she stared at the crack in the floor, reminiscing about days of old before she heard her door begin to open. It gave a quiet squeak and one of her guard's stepped in, baton in hand. "Hello there, Jax."
Rosalie visibly cringed at the sound of her nickname. That had been her father's pet name for her and she didn't approve of other people using it so loosely. But she had to be good and not try to bite his fingers off or else she might be stuck in solitary confinement for longer than she'd like. She acknowledged him by standing up and holding out her arms, palms up. He quickly came over and tucked her wrists into a pair of cold metal cuffs. Both her wrists twitched as the metal came in contact with her skin but the guard probably only thought she was shivering. He was too slow to see the tiny sparks ...
"You've got a visitor today so try and be on your best behavior, hm?" Her guard lead her out of the room and back down to her usual cell, her feet scuffling loudly as they went. She screwed her eyes together, very confused. A visitor? Who would come to see her? Her stepmother hadn't shown up in almost a year, or had it been two? Maybe it was just last month. Rosalie stopped her thoughts and instead focused on the annoying pain in her wrists. The metal against her skin was causing her discomfort but she didn't dare say that outloud. Thankfully, once they were in her cell, the guard removed the cuffs and let her take a seat, tucking the cuffs into his pocket for future use. "Now," the guard walked out of the cell and looked back at her. Be nice, you got it? I don't want to have clean up any more of your messes, yah hear?"
Rosalie didn't bother to nod. He knew she wasn't deaf and it wasn't loud enough in the asylum for her to pretend she hadn't heard him. The guard walked down the hall, presumably to go back to whatever he had been doing before, leaving her alone in her cell to wait for her visitor. She brought her hand up to her hair. It was dry and knotted everywhere. Her comb had been taken away when she tried to stab one of her guards with it. She dropped her hands into her lap and sat down on the floor, knees up. She didn't like sitting on the beds or in the chairs. Ironically, she found it more comfortable on the floor.
There were voices coming from the hall. She closed her eyes. Best to leave it be a surprise. Probably would be the only interesting thing about her visitor. There were so many boring people in the world now. So many boring, listless, uninteresting people. One day, she was going to gather them all up, stick them on a boat, send the boat out to see and blow the whole thing up. Rosalie swallowed nervously and ducked her head down, her forehead resting against her knees. She hadn't had a visitor in awhile, now that she thought of it. Who would come to see her? The door opened and there was the familiar sound of heavy footsteps. The nurse spoke of something and then the door was shut again ...
... leaving her completely alone with a stranger.
Fear was something she thought she was used to by now. She thought she had overcome it and tucked it away into a forgotten box far back in her mind. But fear cannot be forgotten and cannot be hidden away forever. No, fear was still ready to give her a kick in the pants when it felt like it. Her stomach was knotted and she began to feel sick. Rosalie gulped and lifted her head, eyes wide open to take in her visitor.
A visitor she did not recognize. "I don't know you." Rosalie stated very plainly.
It was surprisingly noisy in Arkham on the famous Eve. Because of the holidays, some of the prisoners were allowed out of their cells and in the lunch room for a very 'merry' Christmas 'party'. Some of the older prisoners were in charge of it and they were able to get some decorations up and treats passed out. Not all the prisoners wanted to be out though. Some were still snuggled in their cell, dreading the next day. The asylum rarely got visitors but sometimes, certain families came for the holidays. It was only that much worse for the ones who didn't. To the ones that were without visitors, watching the happy ones was only a painful reminder of what they didn't have.
Which was why Rosalie made the conscious choice to stay in solitary confinement for the majority of the holidays. It wasn't anything strange or new to her. She had spent days and weeks in confinement before but it hadn't been a voluntary choice. The staff had allowed her some nice things to keep with her, at least; A small bright red blanket that was more itchy than comfortable, A Christmas Carol book and a week old chocolate bar from a well-known store outside of the asylum. None of it she truly appreciated. The blanket, the book or the stupid candy bar. She couldn't. There was no meaning or thought behind the 'gifts'. No love.
Of course, the room itself wasn't that cheery either. The solitary confinement was not meant to be luxurious or comfortable but if one needed some alone time, it was perfect. It was a room made entirely out of white. The walls, the floor, the door. Everything. There was no window to see out of and no bed to sit upon. It would drive a normal person insane.
If said person wasn't insane already.
She sat curled up in the far left corner, her legs tucked against her chest as she stared mindlessly at a crack in the floor. Her thoughts? Not as idle as her stare. Rosalie tried to remember Christmases past, how it used to be before Arkham and before her stepmother. She could remember elaborate decorations strewn all across the house. Her father would spend an entire day putting up lights on the tree and outside on the house. His face she could barely remember. She sometimes wished she had a picture to help her memory. It was hard enough to know he was gone but it was harder still to realize that she was slowly but surely forgetting him.
Her left eye gave an involuntary twitch. And then another. But she didn't move. Just stared and blinked when her eyes became too dry. She wasn't sure how long she stared at the crack in the floor, reminiscing about days of old before she heard her door begin to open. It gave a quiet squeak and one of her guard's stepped in, baton in hand. "Hello there, Jax."
Rosalie visibly cringed at the sound of her nickname. That had been her father's pet name for her and she didn't approve of other people using it so loosely. But she had to be good and not try to bite his fingers off or else she might be stuck in solitary confinement for longer than she'd like. She acknowledged him by standing up and holding out her arms, palms up. He quickly came over and tucked her wrists into a pair of cold metal cuffs. Both her wrists twitched as the metal came in contact with her skin but the guard probably only thought she was shivering. He was too slow to see the tiny sparks ...
"You've got a visitor today so try and be on your best behavior, hm?" Her guard lead her out of the room and back down to her usual cell, her feet scuffling loudly as they went. She screwed her eyes together, very confused. A visitor? Who would come to see her? Her stepmother hadn't shown up in almost a year, or had it been two? Maybe it was just last month. Rosalie stopped her thoughts and instead focused on the annoying pain in her wrists. The metal against her skin was causing her discomfort but she didn't dare say that outloud. Thankfully, once they were in her cell, the guard removed the cuffs and let her take a seat, tucking the cuffs into his pocket for future use. "Now," the guard walked out of the cell and looked back at her. Be nice, you got it? I don't want to have clean up any more of your messes, yah hear?"
Rosalie didn't bother to nod. He knew she wasn't deaf and it wasn't loud enough in the asylum for her to pretend she hadn't heard him. The guard walked down the hall, presumably to go back to whatever he had been doing before, leaving her alone in her cell to wait for her visitor. She brought her hand up to her hair. It was dry and knotted everywhere. Her comb had been taken away when she tried to stab one of her guards with it. She dropped her hands into her lap and sat down on the floor, knees up. She didn't like sitting on the beds or in the chairs. Ironically, she found it more comfortable on the floor.
There were voices coming from the hall. She closed her eyes. Best to leave it be a surprise. Probably would be the only interesting thing about her visitor. There were so many boring people in the world now. So many boring, listless, uninteresting people. One day, she was going to gather them all up, stick them on a boat, send the boat out to see and blow the whole thing up. Rosalie swallowed nervously and ducked her head down, her forehead resting against her knees. She hadn't had a visitor in awhile, now that she thought of it. Who would come to see her? The door opened and there was the familiar sound of heavy footsteps. The nurse spoke of something and then the door was shut again ...
... leaving her completely alone with a stranger.
Fear was something she thought she was used to by now. She thought she had overcome it and tucked it away into a forgotten box far back in her mind. But fear cannot be forgotten and cannot be hidden away forever. No, fear was still ready to give her a kick in the pants when it felt like it. Her stomach was knotted and she began to feel sick. Rosalie gulped and lifted her head, eyes wide open to take in her visitor.
A visitor she did not recognize. "I don't know you." Rosalie stated very plainly.
Jun. 8th, 2010
( REDEMPTION PB'S )
May. 25th, 2010
( GA: PART 4 )
( MUPPET SONGS )
( PANDORA'S BOX )