Ordinary. |HIATUS|

Forever and Always

Sombai's POV

The morning warmth clinged on to my body as the sun stood tall for the day. I let out a quiet sigh and raised my gaze to the splotched ceiling.

I ran my eyes over the discoloration and noticed a small palette of purple.

"They say purple is the representation for confusion. Confusion is such a broad term. It could stand for the confusion of what to do, how to act, how not to become someone you've dreaded, or simply, what will be of tomorrow?"

I chuckled as I continued to stare at the ceiling.

"Tomorrow. So many possibilities, so many outcomes. Tomorrow could very well be the last day of your life. Yet we nonchalantly go through the days as if they mean nothing. When exposed to the expression, I start to drown in this sea of unknown emotion, it's not a sense of curiosity or a drive of determination. But an overwhelming wave of forboding. My hands start to shake, my stomach begins to flutter and I begin to tear. I'm not afraid of tomorrow, I'm afraid of losing what I had today."

I furrowed my brows together in annoyance. It's too early in the day to be analyzing nothing.

I rolled my body over and casually inspected the room. Each wall was completely covered by an exaggerated amount of baby blue and white paint. The walls themselves sighed with exhaustion, clearly a sign of old age. But yet they held together with a strong ache of pride.

There were two dressers. One coated with a fusion of navy blue and violent, while the other was as white as snow, accompanied by yellow colored lilies going in various directions.

Numerous family pictures were scattered along the wall. Some even had tearings in it.

Of course there was one huge closet. It was centered right bewteen the abraded door frame and the fourth of the prideful walls. This closet had an act, it seemed to devour anything and still played the coy that it was completely empty.

The beds were nothing too extravagant. A simple bunk bed that's been tossed and turned too many times to count.

As I twist my head, I can see the thick black lines near the edge of the door frame. Each line is enscribed with one name and one number. But it seems that the color themselves are fading.

"Even the marker has it's limits."

I stretch my hands towards the ceiling and softly drop them back to my sides. I raise my body with agitation. Before I have time to complain my body moves on it's own accord to glance once more at the names.

I violently shake my head to concentrate. As I calm down I can hear someone annoyingly tapping their foot. Clearly not whelmed.

"Hmm?"

"Mama said to come down, she's making our favorite." Sarada blatantly explained.

Before she headed back down, she cautiously touched the dimmed lines.

"Hm. Seems like she noticed too."

I picked myself up and jumped onto the floor. I then headed straight for the deceitful closet. As I spread open the doors. I quickly grabbed a random long-sleeved white shirt, gray slacks and a pair of black furry slippers then knowingly left the closet open.

"Sarada's a big girl, she can close these for me." I scoffed.

As I headed out, I momentarily stopped to see the smudged black lines. My fingertips tenderly brushing the surface. I take it all in before I resume my previous objective.

As I walked towards the black stained staircase, I briefly stop to feel the newly formed bumps on the handle.

"Three."