The sock on her shoeless foot was worn through by the time she stopped. The exposed skin had gotten beaten enough to have become red and irritated. It was swelling with a blister, and she was lucky that the pavement hadn't broken the skin open. Though with several other wounds - the ones on her palms were still slowly oozing blood - the bottom of her foot was the least of her concerns.
What had caused her to stop right there at that moment, Juliet did not know; discomfort would be the most logical answer, but to be honest, she hardly noticed any of the pain she should have. Juliet was just tired, and the small empty playground was there Enclosed as it was, away from the street but not so far that no one would hear her scream, the place felt as safe as any other could at the moment.
Limping across the soft grass adrenaline falling into shame and grief finally allowing her to feel the pain of each step, she ignored the rusty and unstable looking play structure in favour of the swings, looking more liable to hold her weight. Folding into the soft seat, she wrapped both arms around the chain, leaving a smear of blood where both hands grasped them, and hung her head. Her long hair created a veil between herself and the world, hiding the slow trickle of tears rolling down her face. Their salt was irritating the hairline cut stretching from just below her left eye to somewhere about her jaw, but that could not convince her to stop.
Juliet couldn't go home; facing her mentors disappointment at what she had allowed to be done to her was worse than the fact that it had happened. The only reason she wasn't dead at this moment was because something else had stopped that girl. If she had been left to her own devices, she would be dead right now.
She could have died
She should have died.
Those were the thoughts that came to her as she pushed herself with her still covered foot; the motion should have been comforting, if she'd allow herself to be comforted. But with her great wall of shame came also guilt. It wasn't a new guilt, but one that she had been living with for a long time now. This wasn't the first time she should have died. This wasn't the first time she had been spared through no action of her own. And last time, she hadn't been the only there.
Just the only one to survive.
Survivors Guilt.
Juliet hadn't completely shaken it then, and now it was back again. What was so special about her? Why did she always seem to live when statistically its known that she shouldn't?
Breath hitching as she attempted to get her limbs to stop shaking, but it was to no avail. Suddenly she froze. There was someone in her park. Her head snapped up and met the familiar gaze of the new comer. As soon as that had happened, her head was ducked again, attempting to hide once more.
She didn't want to see him, not like this. She didn't deserve to see him. But when she tired tot tell him to go nothing came out of her trembling lips but a bunch of stutters, half syllables, odd chocking sounds until finally the only clear intelligible statement of them all followed.
His name.
What had caused her to stop right there at that moment, Juliet did not know; discomfort would be the most logical answer, but to be honest, she hardly noticed any of the pain she should have. Juliet was just tired, and the small empty playground was there Enclosed as it was, away from the street but not so far that no one would hear her scream, the place felt as safe as any other could at the moment.
Limping across the soft grass adrenaline falling into shame and grief finally allowing her to feel the pain of each step, she ignored the rusty and unstable looking play structure in favour of the swings, looking more liable to hold her weight. Folding into the soft seat, she wrapped both arms around the chain, leaving a smear of blood where both hands grasped them, and hung her head. Her long hair created a veil between herself and the world, hiding the slow trickle of tears rolling down her face. Their salt was irritating the hairline cut stretching from just below her left eye to somewhere about her jaw, but that could not convince her to stop.
Juliet couldn't go home; facing her mentors disappointment at what she had allowed to be done to her was worse than the fact that it had happened. The only reason she wasn't dead at this moment was because something else had stopped that girl. If she had been left to her own devices, she would be dead right now.
She could have died
She should have died.
Those were the thoughts that came to her as she pushed herself with her still covered foot; the motion should have been comforting, if she'd allow herself to be comforted. But with her great wall of shame came also guilt. It wasn't a new guilt, but one that she had been living with for a long time now. This wasn't the first time she should have died. This wasn't the first time she had been spared through no action of her own. And last time, she hadn't been the only there.
Just the only one to survive.
Survivors Guilt.
Juliet hadn't completely shaken it then, and now it was back again. What was so special about her? Why did she always seem to live when statistically its known that she shouldn't?
Breath hitching as she attempted to get her limbs to stop shaking, but it was to no avail. Suddenly she froze. There was someone in her park. Her head snapped up and met the familiar gaze of the new comer. As soon as that had happened, her head was ducked again, attempting to hide once more.
She didn't want to see him, not like this. She didn't deserve to see him. But when she tired tot tell him to go nothing came out of her trembling lips but a bunch of stutters, half syllables, odd chocking sounds until finally the only clear intelligible statement of them all followed.
His name.
Wed May 21, 2014 2:20 am by Guest
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