Counting thoughts

M  A   E    A I talked to God to no avail Said, "If you won't save me, please don't waste my time." Maea stood. The tone, the words, it was all just far too much. As if she'd wanted to leave! As if it had been a choice to survive when her family had not? Lying in that bed did excuse Amalia of some of the ire, but not of the cruelty. Not of the implication that Maea had run away like a coward when all she'd ever wanted to do was stand and pull her own cursed weight, for once. "I came because I thought there might be a chance to become friends again, like we used to be," she said, rare anger flaring across her cheeks and narrowing the pupils in her too-pale eyes. "I thought I'd give it another try, since I've grown tired of being a bitter, jealous person who blames others for my own inabilities. But it seems you're not very interested in trying, so I will just stop." Tossing her half-eaten bun away into the trash, she pushed the chair away with a foot and gave Amalia a long, hard stare. If she was sorry this had derailed so quickly, or sad to find that her good will and intentions went unreciprocated, it did not show on her face. It was cold, hard, more distant than it had ever been, and the lips were pressed into a tight smile. "I do hope you get better soon. When you do, I will kick your ass for what you said about my brother. Goodbye, Amalia." With that she turned and stalked out, moving with surprising speed for one so short. Something in the look on her face had people back out of the way as she passed, clearly startled; Maea didn't even notice. -------- - Fin!