"Hush."
Your muse finds my muse curled up on the bed, crying. Send “Hush” for a 1-35 generated response to why.
It was one of those things she shouldn’t allow to get to her. Papa hardly ever raised his voice or even allowed himself to stir from his comfortable behavior. But echoes of his fierce yells to her continued to haunt and pick at her heart. She had resided to her room to hide away from her family as she felt her tears swell from the corners of her eyes. He hadn’t meant what he said, and she should admit it was not his reaction alone that caused her to fall over for the comfort of her bed, but realizing how much her family was being pushed and stressed. She could hardly think of anything to assist her family’s needs, leaving a pit of helplessness grow in the depths of her soul.
Elisa had tried to keep her tears quiet as she buried her face, hugging the pillow as he body curled to fit. She heard her door creak open, expecting mama to reassure her what she already knew, though she was rather surprised that it was Jack instead, sitting at the edge of her bed.
Her back was turned to him in hopes to at least hide her tears. She always felt to be an ugly crier, and in thinking so the ball in which she curled herself up in tightened. Her arms squeezed not only the pillow, but embraced her legs as well. It was a silent conversation between the two, each knowing the previous incident and it’s contents, neither too sure how to go about it. It was hard times, and Elisa had thrown herself at a very difficult moment in her father’s cope.
But as she felt her sobs begin to grow heavier, she felt a pair of arms gently wrap around her waist so as to not disturb her position. As often as he toyed with her as she were a wooden horse, it was at this moment did she feel like glass to him.
Still gripping the pillow, Elisa rolled over to face him. Between the linen and his body, her sobs began to settle.
