Chapter 1- The White Room

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🌜POV Llithyia🌛

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🌜POV Llithyia🌛

Wisps of silky white hair blew softly to my breathing, this would have bothered me if I still gave a single fuck. My glare was angled downwards, resting my chin on my grazed knees that were tucked to my chest. I could feel the distant aching of my muscles, that felt insignificant to the inner turmoil that was happening in the depths of my complex mind.

Without moving, my eyes would flicker to the other three corners of the room in which I was held. I had tucked myself in the other corner, there wasn't much to protect my protruding spine from the hard walls other than the thin papery hospital gown.

My skin was pale, similar to sheets of snow after a snow storm although there are faint almond coloured freckles once in a blue moon on my nose and cheeks.

I wasn't starved per say, I just forgot to eat, my appetite was almost non-existent and I was a naturally small person, my metabolism easily outmatching Usain Bolt.

It was one of the qualities I inherited from my mother as well as the silent glossy strands of milky hair that poured down my back.

She was the ethereal sort of beauty, my mother. The beauty you would unknowingly be drawn to, the beauty you would need a second glance for to make sure was real.

She had these warm chocolate brown eyes that matched that of her personality, they reminded me of Autumn. Cozy huddles of blankets and in one hand a book the other a hot cuppa while golden leaves fluttered in the breeze. Whenever she looked at me I always felt like they captured me in an imaginary hug surrounding me in a safety blanket. I loved my mama.

But instead of warm brown ones, I got the glassy blue ones from my father and instead of the warm feeling my mother brought to a room, I unsettled people. I was not ethereal, I was haunting like ghosts, whose purpose was to wander the earth for eternity. It wasn't that I was scary, I was unknown and humans are scared of what they do not know.

Parting my lips I silently inhaled through my nose and licked my chapped lips tasting a faint copper.

Taunting white walls enclosed me on all sides, floor to ceiling all the same texture. There was one light on the ceiling which dimly illuminated the room. There was a door in front of me with a small viewing porthole and a lock, of course. My jaw ticked, I didn't want to be here but that was nothing new, my inner self yearned to be free and have fun. I loved the feeling of thrill and I hated people ,more specifically men.

I had lost sense of time ages ago, everything was blending together, I felt like I was seeing through a screen.

They had put me in here, after almost mauling the guard with my nails. My medication, which was not really medication I concluded, was supposed to help me, it was meant to make me more compliant and manageable, less wild and unpredictable.

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