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Lenore Silme-Natenhar Crew
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 Posted: Thu Aug 30, 2007 7:39 pm
31 October, 2006.
She didn't know what Happy Birthday meant, but somehow she didn't seem to think that it was very good. It might have been the way that it was said to her.
She looked around the room that she was shown to, and frowned. Her head was aching so badly, and the sun streaming through the curtain-less window did not help the matter.
So many things were going through her head, she couldn't quite get a grasp on anything. It seemed . . . overloaded to her. Maybe that was why her head hurt so much?
She hugged her chest and closed her eyes, willing her . . . brain to stop . . . thinking for a moment. Just a sweet, glorious moment. She was sure that, then, and only then, would her head stop . . . throbbing; that it would stop feeling as though it were going to . . . explode.
She grabbed her head in her gloved hands, fisting her hands in her short, bright red hair. "Stop," she said, in a voice that was hoarse due to lack of use. Indeed, this was the first time she had ever used it. "Stop," she mumbles again.
She stumbled over to the . . . bed. She knew, somehow, that this was the place that she needed to go. She needed to go there and . . . rest. Something in her told her that she could escape the pain that way. Maybe when she opened her eyes again, it would be gone. . . .
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Posted: Thu Aug 30, 2007 7:56 pm
Ever since her first outting, Andy hardly left her room. She didn't feel the need to.
She did, however, travel out a few times, just to refill her art, sewing, and embroidery kits, and to pick up some new clothes when hers became threadbare.
She felt no need for companionship, not right now. All she wanted to do was create. She wanted to paint, she wanted to sew, and she wanted to stitch designs into her clothing.
The designs she stitched were mostly arachnid in origin. Indeed, the gloves that she wore, she made herself. She just had an innate ability to do that sort of thing. Webs, she knew that was what the design was called. And, she enjoyed the act of emroidering spiders into the pockets of her jeans, and sewing plastic spiders that she had managed to find onto her shoes. She was especially happy when she found a pair of rare, silver spiders. She rushed home and put them on a pair of her black flats as soon as she could.
This is how Andy spent her days. Her room was cluttered with odd lengths of string that she had no purpose for, discarded clothes that had not come to be magically cleaned and put up overnight, and dried paint stains on the floor. Her desk was a mess of paper, and her walls were lined with sketched and paintings that she did.
She got better and better with each passing day. What were first simple, childish sketches soon transformed into more creative, vibrant, mature peices of art. She had her own style, and while some of it was based in reality, most of it was taken from her imagination, viewed through the eyes of an older person trapped in a young body.
This was only natural, because this was all she did. She painted and created every moment of every day. She only breaked to go to the bathroom, eat, and take a bath. She rarely slept, she didn't feel the need to. But, when she did feel the need to sleep, it usually overtook her whereever she happened to be sewing or painting. She had woken many times to find herself in bed when she clearly remembered falling asleep at her desk or on the floor. She still didn't know how she was moved to her bed.
So, she went close to a year without speaking to anyone, without meeting anyone, and generally avoiding the general populous.
Andy yawned. Maybe it was time she went out and met a few people. . . .
She looked over at her door and frowned. Did she really want to? Would it be worth it?
She bent over her jeans once more, intent on finishing off the spider web around the spider she had embroidered in the front pocket of her jeans. She would decide after she finished this. . . .
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Lenore Silme-Natenhar Crew
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Lenore Silme-Natenhar Crew
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Posted: Fri Aug 31, 2007 2:07 pm
Andromeda had been painting all day. She had finally finished the canvas she was working on, and looked down at her hands. What she saw made her frown. Paint was smeared all over her hands, and splattered up her arms. The white apron that had some in her art set had saved her pajamas (which was usually what she painted in, so her everyday clothes wouldn't get paint all over them) for the most part. And, she had a feeling that she probably had paint on her face, maybe even some in her hair.
"Great," she mumbled, and pushed up out of her kneeling position in front of the canvas she was working on. Her knees, back, and neck ached, but she was used to this feeling. While she was painting, she didn't notice little things like that.
She stretched her arms above her head and leaned back, groaning a little as she stretched her muscles out. She then quickly took off her apron and tossed it over the chair in front of her desk, and walked to her door, intent on taking a long shower.
Little did Andy know that she would not be alone. Olivia had snuck back into the old rooms just so she could talk to her old friend in the shiney place. The one in her new home was her reflection, she knew that. But, she had managed to convince herself that the one that she saw before she got taller was really stuck in the shiney place.
Something inside of her head always told her, when she thought of her old friend, that she, too, was her reflection. But, she was so stubborn, she didn't want to believe it. Because, then, she thought that something inside of her would . . . die? Yes, that was the right word. She didn't want that to happen!
In fact, it was this possibility, the possibility that her friend was really just a reflection, that had kept her in her home for all those months. She was refusing to believe the truth, and she had stayed alone in order to try to come to grips with that notion.
Obviously, that never happened. She just happily started to delude herself, letting her brain continue to think that the refelction in the mirror in the old rooms was really a girl trapped in another world.
So, Andy walked into the bathroom to see Livvy standing there, her head tilted, and staring at her reflection raptly.
Andy quirked a brow when she saw this. It wasn't that the girl was staring at herself that really grabbed her attention. It happened to her often enough when she was trying to get her hair the way she wanted it to be. This other girl, she looked as though she were concentrating really hard.
"Yesssss, that'ssss right," Livvy said to her reflection. Then, her red eyes caught the shock of bright red hair in the reflection of the mirror next to the one she was looking in.
Livvy turned, her bright pink ribbons in her hair bouncing as she did so. "Oh, hello!" she says, smiling happily, her tail swishing slowly behind her. "I didn't think anyone would come in her sssso late!"
Andy merely nodded, and looked at Olivia as though she were a little mental.
Livvy frowned at that, and wrung her hands. "I'm Livvy, by the way. I think we met each other before."
"Yes," Andy replied. "Andy," she added, before moving closer to the showers.
Livvy only nodded, and watched the younger girl walk away. She quickly turned back to her reflection, and spoke to it in a hushed whisper.
Andy found herself unable to enjoy the shower because of the hissed whispers. She frowned, and stayed in long enough to get all of the paint off of her. She dressed in the fresh pair of pajamas that she had brought with her, and found Livvy whispering to her reflection.
"What are you doing?" Andy asked her.
"Oh," Livvy said, spinning around once more and looking down at Andy. "I'm talking to my friend," she answered.
Andy looked around, as though she would see someone sulking around. "Where's your friend?" she asked.
"Uhm . . ." Livvy smiled, nervously now. She pointed behind her, to the mirror. "There sssshe issss."
Andy's eyebrows rose and she turned her bi-colored eyes to Olivia. "Are you serious?" she asked. When Livvy nodded, Andy shook her head. "You're talking to yourself," she stated.
"Oh, no," Livvy shook her head firmly. "Sssshe'ssss sssstuck in another world. Sssshe jusssst wantssss ssssomeone to talk to. Sssso, I vissssit her ssssometimessss."
Andy's eyebrows rose higher, and she simply nodded slowly. She thought Livvy was a little crazy, now, and wanted to get out of there as soon as she could. "Well, I'm going back to my room. . . . Uhm . . . have fun."
Livvy nodded slowly, and watched as Andy left. She then turned, slowly, back to her reflection. "Sssshe doessssn't believe me, either," she said, softly.
Her friend looked just as sad as Olivia did. They both sighed.
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