@dehrdevil : scared of what other people think?
“ no, that’s not it—not like that… ” a palm stills in the air, stutters and pauses hiccup her spiel as her mouth fails to convey the struggles of her introspection without tripping over her own hypocrisy. scared has connotations she’s wanted to remove from herself, from everything and everyone she’s become so intimate with in recent years. scared of what others think? no, not anymore. scared of what they will do. her mind wanders as her gaze falls ahead, catching the wind as it passes through the leaves of perfectly aligned trees framing the streets. too perfect to be of nature's hand, clearly. an intangible force that’s fallen victim underneath the vice grip of humanities insistence of consuming only what is under its own guidance. “ it’s not fear, it’s being careful. ”
there's a desperate cacophony inside her, an echo of a child's grubby fists clutching two halves, willing them to fit together instead of bouncing off in repulsion. the only clear voice she’s been able to make out amidst the enduring batter is familiar and brusque. sweet piccola, her father would say after yanking her wrist back, keep the curtain closed, it’s not time. “ people like me—us—there’s always going to be secrets for a good reason. i’m not happy about it, but that’s how it is... ” her mouth parts to spill more, always ready to plug the holes left in her own words, but doubt lines her throat like bile before she can continue; she yields with a swallow.