|
Post by Willow Wenlock on Feb 13, 2010 21:33:17 GMT -5
Willow wondered what could have hurt this boy so deeply that he would get into such a rage about things. Something was festering in him, something that hurt and he obviously didn't want to deal with. "I may not know what happened to you, but I know things that hurt. I know about secrets." At least some secrets, it had taken a long time to find out about her father. She wondered if the educated guess she was about to make was closer to the truth, "I bet it was worse, when you stopped talking to each other."
|
|
|
Post by Trent Frey on Feb 13, 2010 22:04:48 GMT -5
"F~ you," Lyric hissed again. He didn't care if he was repeating the same thing over and over, it was none of her damn business! "You don't know what I've been through. Not talking to someone is nothing, a hex to the gut is nothing, leave me the hell alone!" He glanced out the window, time slowing to a near stop as his eyes caught on the astronomy tower. For a fraction of a second that felt like several moments, he pictured a nearly-invisible shape toppling over the edge, and when his heart beat again, his eyes met those of the girl, everything in him hardening over at top speed.
|
|
|
Post by Willow Wenlock on Feb 13, 2010 22:12:16 GMT -5
It was sad really, the desperation in his voice, Willow drew her legs up in front of her watching him. "I'll leave you alone, but you need to talk to someone. Tell someone that you trust what's wrong. It will make you feel better, it might help. Bottling up rage and hurt, it's going to lead down a destructive path." A path that could hurt anyone attached to him. He'd end up hurting himself.
|
|
|
Post by Trent Frey on Feb 13, 2010 22:21:57 GMT -5
"You sound like a f~ing greeting card," Lyric snapped. "And I don't f~ing trust anyone. There is no one." His mother, but the thought didn't ease his desire to escape at all. He gave the girl one last final glare and stormed past her, paying no attention to the shelves he knocked against in his hurry to escape.
|
|
|
Post by Willow Wenlock on Feb 13, 2010 22:39:42 GMT -5
Watching the boy walk away Willow wondered what she had ultimately said that had pushed him so much. She shrugged, she knew that she wasn't a therapist, but she also prided herself in being able to hold her own in a conversation, but she hadn't held her own here, she'd crashed and burned. Well if she was given another chance in the future she hoped to excel where she had not this time. Sighing to herself she unfolded herself from her chair and found a book to read before she sat down at the table and tried to lose herself in the pages.
|
|