this morning, it had been a cold caress of porcelain that eased her slowly from comfort. hovering upwards--she still couldn't really bear the burden of standing--she wipes her mouth with a shaking hand of air--her arms were another pair of limbs left useless by the brown haired mutant, and goes on with her morning. she would brush her teeth. she would comb her hair. she'd smile, first hesitantly, then as genuinely as possible, before heading off to get changed and medicated for a long, hopefully wonderful, probably tiring day at xavier's.
she wonders, when had life turned into such a burden?
dim eyes focus on the sink--she had to be careful to not break the faucet--and she yawns, tears emerging. the mutant blinks through the tears, sight blurring; a minute smile, sincere in being--how big of a yawn was it for her tears to be that big? were they of ghibli status? another yawn parts from her lips before her gaze flickers upwards to examine her face, totally innocent in nature.
yet like everything that jinri attempted nowadays, things that were rooted in good intent, such a simple thing as looking into a mirror was corrupted by the rot that had wrapped its polluted hands around her mind. there, for that very moment, she genuinely believed that the face in front of her was that of the very woman who had put a bullet through her joints, who had made her believe mai was dead, who had called upon a moment of true blood lust that now, even in afterthought, scared jinri to the core.
she screams, fingers curling into a firm fist and arm forcing itself backwards to smash the mirror in front of her; a motion repeated until it finally cracks, until her shoulder feels like it's been ignited with firecrackers and her shaking, neurotic fingers are tinted with streaks of red. that ugly, horrible red that left her gasping and wheezing just weeks prior just turns her heart over in her chest; she feels both cold and inflamed at the same time, sad and angry at the visage of the weak, trembling, weak girl in the mirror before her.
the madness of the sorrow that she had buried the bones of deep within her chest seem to now arise and arrange themselves into shackles; jinri was trapped in the sheer misery and anger that now contorted her body betwixt each word of her shrieks, "you're so fucking ugly! so fucking useless! just die! just die! just die!" bloodied fists somehow strike the glass with more intensity with each and every passing second, and frighteningly enough?
