/:/The Gray Bandanna\:\ (Open)
Jan 4, 2011 19:09:25 GMT -5
Post by White Raven on Jan 4, 2011 19:09:25 GMT -5
/:/Marina Navari\:\
With a sigh, I stared up at the clouded sky and pulled my cloak around my shoulders tighter. It had happened again. I had promptly gotten kicked out by my mother into the cold weather for the third time this week. Of course, I really couldn't blame her. Another project had been ruined, and the socks had ended up a strange shape, not near close enough to go on some one's feet.
But what could you expect from someone who had not received the talent? 'Apparently much, or so my mother likes to think,' I thought, readjusting the gray bandanna around my head. But then I laughed to myself quietly. My mother, though rather disappointed in my ability to sew, loved me still, and hadn't kicked me out just for the reason that I had messed up. The paper in my hands and the money, however small, proved that. She had sent me out on a shopping run, asking for some more needles, as a few had broken recently.
My mind began to wander as it usually did, and soon my thoughts drifted to my eye, or rather lack there of. It scared me still some times, the emptiness that existed under the gray cloth of the bandanna. In the mornings, when I would look at my reflection in the broken mirror in the bathroom, I would cringe. I found it sad that I would shy away from my own self. My mom constantly reminded me that it was only natural, and that it would soon seem normal to be. But four years is an awfully long time to get used to it.
The sounds of the approaching District Square snapped me back to reality, and just staring at the crowd from a distance made me want to bolt. Interactions with people always made me worry. Would the covering come off and some one see? I so hoped not. I always fear what reactions people might have.
But still, I swallowed the lump that had formed and head toward the crowd with quickly falling courage.