Missing Aura of HOMRA ( K Project - Mikoto Suoh x OC )

Page Two - Rippling Senses

"It's not the Goodbye that hurts..." She mutters softly, wrapping her own arms around herself, wishing they were his...

Through half-lidded eyes, I watched the flickering of the lamp within the far corner of the room, it's only a metre away, but looks further with every heavy-hooded blink I do. The bulb blinking in and out of working order. The darkness sinking in and grown everywhere else besides that one, little bulb.

Three years... Three years and I've watched it. Since the moment it began to give up. When will it finally burst? Finally be free to no-longer filter from living, to death. When will I finally have that choice? The choice to once again wonder through the streets, not alone. The choice to stand upon the edge of a skyscraper and watch the horizon alight in the burning rays of the rising, or falling sun.

My nose constantly corrupted with the sickening smell of the blue-moulding and damp walls that have now been joint with moss climbing through the wallpaper and weakening the wooden beams that keeps the ceiling from caving in anymore than it has behind me. The smell even over-dousing my unwashed and dirtied flesh.

Any smell would be better... The scent of flowers, clean streets, fresh air and even cologne... I crave for the smell of smoke, rising off the end of my cigarette that should be perched in between my lips...

The sense of touch, chilling my skin. Wrists strung to the crumbling ceiling - keeping even my toes from barely touching the ground. The skin rubbed raw and my toes hovering over the blood gripped stones beneath me.

Movement... Every single twitch... aches like a wound to the stomach, the dagger, burnt before the strike, sizzling the skin and erupting the organs into a frenzy of cries, panic and in-relentless pain. Yet... it fades after a few minutes as if the stomach has quickly re-sown itself after the blade was removed, only giving the handler an advantage to wound it again.

and again.

and again.

Taste... My mouth dry and cracked. The after-taste of the liquefied mush they fed me earlier 

What I would give... to have food again... proper food again... The juiciness of meat, crunch of the vegetables... just the taste of something even simple that wasn't mushed into something thick and vile. They keep me mal-nourished, but hydrate me... What is their purpose?

Finally... Hearing... My hearing - definitely my worst asset. What I've heard throughout my time in captivity... treated like a little street rat, test victim, would scar any normal person. No-one deserves this...

Yet today... it was silent...

The silence was unnerving. The silence is unnerving. The eyes I know are on me, eyes that aren't making a sound, allowing my palpitating heartbeat to fill my ears like the thrumming drums that I once heard a man listening to through headphones. 

Is it because they've ripped most of my auditory abilities from me?  Is that why I can barely hear anything besides my heart? Have they really ripped it from me? Stolen my hearing like they've stolen my life?

My eyes dragging from the flickering light to the empty gap in the wall that used to house a door of oak, only to witness a man dressed in smart attire to walk through, his top-button opened, and tie undone. His dirty blonde hair dishevelled and not styled. The flickering light alighting half of his face, while the rest is doused in darkness.