June Bug
she/her
twenty-seven
April 21
Mauville City
Bisexual
Delivery-Person
civilian
Swallow the Heart and Kill the Senses
TAG WITH @rysa
june sleigh
ULTRA PLANT: JAH
POSTED ON Jun 13, 2024 8:02:49 GMT
The boat slammed into the rocky cliffs. Her hull snapped in two, and the sails gutted themselves on the pointed stones. Soon, the entire vessel sank below the tumultuous waves. Down, down, down, to the depths of the viscous sea. Her crew struggled to stay afloat, claw their way to safety, yet soon followed their ship.
“N-no,” June begged. Pleaded. “I-I can’t.”
“No.”
No. No. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Never, in a million years. She needed him. Wanted him. He couldn’t be gone. Impossible. In the face of such difficulties, the truth had been tucked away. Buried in the depths of a shelf and left to gather dust. Covered in thorns which threatened to prick and bleed, in the hopes that it’d keep it away.
Keep him there. Out of sight, out of mind, yet always a possibility. Finally, a leg buckled. On one knee, she tried to keep steady. “H-he can’t… can’t–”
The ranger had shoved the hidden, thorny truth deep inside her chest. It tore flesh asunder and wounded her deep. Like she’d been shot out of the sky, and worn out to exhaustion in a friend's apartment, and betrayed, and yelled at, and electrocuted, and pierced with a bullet, and snapped in two all at once.
But even as her chest bled and breathing because ragged, something changed. Something clicked. Something she hadn’t felt in two-and-a-half years: solace in another soul. The comfort of a friend, and the beat of a heart.
The truth hurt. Worse than death. But to carve the truth into the heart was to feel, and to feel was to live. June Sleigh had shambled along, desperate to hide and without true purpose. She survived. Manageable, but unsustainable.
But now, as ugly sobs racked her body, and she fell to the dusty ground, she lived. In all of its horrid, awful agony. The heart escaped, and the senses pulsed. There, the girl from a cold December night returned. Cold, balled up, her ugly crying the only sound above the roar of thunder and the passive energetic shuffle of the Regieleki.
In its yellow glow, she finally grieved.
|
|