Gaia Bliss
Bio
22/F/ Mother~Daughter~Sister~Aunt~Wife
Just an eloquent record keeper of human experience.
Stories (1/0)
The Story of Us
It was a bright and sunny day that seemed only grey to her hardened eyes. Through times and tragedy she had come to seemingly desensitize herself to the colors that consumed her. As she trailed in unnoticed through the prison-orange doors, focusing on her feet, but still seeing the faces of everyone she’s passed. God forbid she brush against someone’s shoulder, or, in worst case scenario, be pulled into actual conversation. She had made it past the cackling girls wearing Bass Pro Shop T-Shirts who all had their hair styled the same way and were waiting to join each other in Intensive Reading class. You know the ones, who wake up at five o’clock every morning to shower, put on just enough makeup to seem like they're not wearing any, and has about half a bottle of sprunch spray in their barely towel dried hair. Most of these girls lost their innocence years ago, but made a pretty face in church, giving them some sort of unearned entitlement. It was these girls that bothered her the most. She felt it very appropriate they chose to hover so close to those same entry way doors, casting a hideous orange reflection back at them. If they knew that she knew the them they’d long forgotten, they’d have probably noticed her more, so it’s for the best really that they were all somewhat afraid of her for no real apparent reason. Passing a crowd of faces, she could only manage to connect to broken bits of trauma through a series of unavoidable energy transfers. Her ears are soon soothed by the familiar buzz of clean energy flowing in glittering swirls surrounding what is seen as the darkest corner of the campus.
By Gaia Bliss6 years ago in Humans