↳ ❝ 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐒 ... 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐒. ❞
The caverns of her dark soul were built from shards of shattered glass; each a testament to the labyrinth of trauma she has truly...
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𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐇𝐎𝐖 it happened.
Amidst the somber shadows of a dimly lit room, an open window cast a slender rectangle of fractured moonlight upon the worn wooden floorboards. The tempest outside danced with unrestrained fury, rain lashing against the windowpane like a frenzied percussion, while the wind wailed an anguished melody, punctuated by thunderous crescendos that reverberated through the silent chamber.
The girl had no idea how she ended up in this predicament - but as she stared down at Leon Ford's limp body, she couldn't help but question if her morals had fled completely out the open window behind her, picked up, and swirled around by the wind.
Khairiah's solitary figure stood, veiled in the cloak of her own inner turmoil. The girl, her silhouette partially illuminated by the sporadic flashes of lightning, lingered amidst the darkness, a palpable aura of distress enveloping her. Her eyes, wide and tormented, reflected the chaos reigning within her soul, a tempest more profound than the one that raged beyond the confines of her sanctuary.
Her thoughts, like the relentless raindrops, pelted her consciousness, each droplet an unfaltering question, a haunting inquiry into the abyss of her true morality.
Beside her, lay a form, once vibrant and conscious, now an inert vessel devoid of the spark that once animated it. Guilt and a profound sense of despair suffused her being, intertwining with the tendrils of hatred that wound around her heart. This was wrong, she knew it was - yet the little voice that lined the outskirts of her ethical thoughts whispered sweet sonnets of her true intentions. Those meddlings which had perhaps been cloaked by several layers of ignorance from her own mind. The darkness within Khairiah was present, but she preferred to think that it lay dormant. She was fragile, far too perilous when the fringes of hatred lurked around her conscience. The girl, outwardly unassuming, harbored within her a reservoir of emotions that, when tainted by disdain, birthed a terrifying transformation. When the tendrils of hatred coiled around her heart, a transformation unfurled - an unsettling metamorphosis that rendered her unrecognizable.
