a fortress forbidden since childhood . the desire to venture beyond its gates null until now . bianca’s words linger in the back of her mind : it’s foolish , moronic . . . denial of fact . she can’t shake the feeling it’s more than mere accident that kept their mother from returning home that night. 𝙳𝙴𝙽𝙸𝙰𝙻 , grief’s first stage. yet what she knows as this : there’s no rest to be found without closure .
kept to the shadows , following sign after sign conspicuously marking what’s OFF LIMITS . could they be less blatant ? then again , the sensation’s there somewhere eyes watch . her story’s cemented , should she find herself caught. a daughter grieving , desperate to learn if anything’d been left behind. focus caught , the hall seems to grow darker with fluorescents that flicker. nearing in on its corner where scratches , where dents find the wall speckled in dried crimson thus far unscathed.