i am hidden
i cover my face with a paper mask stained by ink and random pencil scrawlings all placed sometimes wildly, sometimes delicately on the page in order to tell a story that was once trapped in my head
the pencil bites into the side of my thumb; my wrist hurts from typing; my fingertips are turning black from the charcoal dust but i won't stop, because if the words and pictures in my head don't come out then they will consume me and i will have more than just inkstains to worry about; my very sanity seems to be at stake here
on my face the paper mask burns with my dreams; there is grandeur in nearly everything, even though my meager pencil-strokes cannot hope to convey the depths of my emotion
It was a cold morning. The sky was bleak with gray clouds, despite the faint, trembling rays of orange light in the distance. A few snowflakes fell down around her shoulders, perching on her black dress like tiny doves. It was a day like any other winter's day.
'It's a fitting day to die,' thought Eleanor.
The doors opened wide, and the shocked chatter hit Eleanor like a wall. Every voice seemed to blend together into one long, meaningless drone of noise. Faces stared up at her, some of them familiar. She could see fear in the eyes of Leonidas. She could see resignation on the face of Ariel. She could not see Felix, and she found that she was terribly glad. Better that he didn't have to watch this.
Cyrus and Morgan escorted her to the edge of the porch, where she stopped and they stepped back. Across from her, Ethan made his way out into the light, his gold eyes burning.