Evie
i'll plant a row of daisy seeds
in the space beneath each eye
in the space beneath each eye
Despite the resonating silence in the room after her...explosion...Evie can't bear to unveil her eyes. It's a childhood habit, a pitiful one at that. The equivalent of covering one's ears or closing your eyes so as not to see or hear that which you don't like. But even with the pressure she exerts over her eyes, the tears don't stop coming. The trembling doesn't cease. It feels like her own body is falling apart faster than her family is, which is quite a feat considering all that's happening. Amalia's soft alto voice is like the beam of light through the fog that keeps her from crashing upon the rocky bank, and the hand that touches upon her shoulder makes her jump briefly, only relaxing enough to lean into it. Finally her hand drops away. No hiding, Evie. It won't fix this. She thinks that nothing will, but again that collar around her neck cinches tight, choking away any semblance of independence she may have had. Evie is her brother's keeper, her sister's too. She can't run away from this, no matter how badly she wants to stride out that door and forsake them to their squabbling. This was the task she was born to uphold, and no amount of hating it will stop the siren call.
Sam's voice rises through Amalia's last hissed words, and Evie turns around. Eyes red-rimmed and lips thin and drawn. "You're acting like a child. You know I, of everyone here, have never turned this bullshit into an 'Ascended this or that' problem. I've supported you ever since you were first turned, and there's nobody else in this family that equally despises the Old Gods." He of everyone knew that, after the Voice had betrayed her biggest, most sacred secret to Samuel of all people. She'd told him about her lack of faith, and now this is his rebuttal? "No, Sam. You disgust me because of your choice, not your race." It's spit venomously, as if her words could sink down through the floor like acid eating up the wood beneath her feet. At least that would give her an escape. "And frankly, I'm insulted that you'd try and use that pitiful excuse of a defense against me. You should be seeking penance, not to try and change our damn minds." Penance that she can't control, which vexes her. Knowing that she'd throw him in a jail cell if he still lived beneath her rule, and hurting inside all the same at that realization. "You've always been a coward, hiding behind The Voice, and the one time you step behind her shadow you gleefully sentenced our friends and family to death. Now you use her name as a shield once more, refusing to own up to your mistake. I can't even stand to look at you. You can cringe away from the word all you want, but you. Are. A. Murderer." The glass and cutlery at her spot rattles ominously as her magic lashes out, teeth bared in a hateful grimace as she tries to reign in her telekinesis.
Sam's voice rises through Amalia's last hissed words, and Evie turns around. Eyes red-rimmed and lips thin and drawn. "You're acting like a child. You know I, of everyone here, have never turned this bullshit into an 'Ascended this or that' problem. I've supported you ever since you were first turned, and there's nobody else in this family that equally despises the Old Gods." He of everyone knew that, after the Voice had betrayed her biggest, most sacred secret to Samuel of all people. She'd told him about her lack of faith, and now this is his rebuttal? "No, Sam. You disgust me because of your choice, not your race." It's spit venomously, as if her words could sink down through the floor like acid eating up the wood beneath her feet. At least that would give her an escape. "And frankly, I'm insulted that you'd try and use that pitiful excuse of a defense against me. You should be seeking penance, not to try and change our damn minds." Penance that she can't control, which vexes her. Knowing that she'd throw him in a jail cell if he still lived beneath her rule, and hurting inside all the same at that realization. "You've always been a coward, hiding behind The Voice, and the one time you step behind her shadow you gleefully sentenced our friends and family to death. Now you use her name as a shield once more, refusing to own up to your mistake. I can't even stand to look at you. You can cringe away from the word all you want, but you. Are. A. Murderer." The glass and cutlery at her spot rattles ominously as her magic lashes out, teeth bared in a hateful grimace as she tries to reign in her telekinesis.
so they'll remind you of your beauty
when they bloom each time you cry
when they bloom each time you cry
