Thread:Dawndragon1828/@comment-35042251-20190413163119/@comment-35042251-20190421005339

While Celosia had been getting water from the kitchen and arguing with Dominic, Skylight had been washing the nauseating red-purple-black blood off her arms and hands, using tons of soap. Oh, she wasn't ususally sickened by blood or gore, but the coughed up blood on her arms and hands reminded her too much of Eglantine's death, of the sickening smells whenever the dark faerie would go into fierce coughing fits that seemed to last forever, bringing up more and more tainted blood every time.

It brought back bad memeories, of her mother's constantly pale, worried face, the hushed whispers of worried doctors and nurses as they flurried around Eglantine's bed, looking grimer and grimer as each day passed. And most of all, it reminded her of the fact that it was now her turn, for her to be back to days of laying in her hospital bed, wracked with nightmares whenever she did sleep and tortured by unbearable pain when she was awake.

By the time Celosia returned, Skylight was staring down at her bloodied hands, the tap still on as warm water sprayed down on her hands. She was motionless, trapped in the onslaught of unwanted emotions and memories.