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It was common, the moments in which she felt so tethered to the world yet so aloof. The words filtered into her ears and caused her heart to palpitate, in that moment she wished to stand up and move her body to the flow of the music.
She was a porcelain figurine with coffee-colored skin, a graceful dancer entertaining the ease that her mind needed, no longer paying attention to the intrusive thoughts that taunted her during the day. At this moment she compared herself to the more pleasant things in her life, things she thought that brought her into existence , a singular strand of lavender, the taste of freshly picked clementines, and the sweet taste of honey.
Fuyumi Ito was an anomaly to herself often acting out of courtesy for others and completely neglecting her own pleasures but tonight the 5'6" girl had slithered out of bed at the infant hours of the morning, it seemed that she had become bored of staring into the bare ceiling in an attempt to eventually slip into a deep slumber.
Beyond the sweet sound of music that filled her small ears was the delicate sound of raindrops pelting against her window. She stopped her graceful moments, taking out both of her earbuds and setting them on the window sill. It was then that she felt the cold wooden floor press against the bottom of her bare feet, her body shivered in sudden acknowledgement of her own presence.
"well, shit-" she whispered to herself, whether it be because her feet felt naked or she had been struck with a new idea.
It was nearly impossible to understand her mannerisms.
She smiled, a smile that melted the ice away from anyone's stale heart, it seemed to make the rain falter for a second and return with a brute force. "-dont mind if I do" she pressed her hand against the cold window, a white fog forming around it due to her own warmth, the window slid open with ease. In a matter of seconds, she had found herself flailing out of the window, mouth open as no sound abrupted from the sharp pain that aided her bottom.
She layed on the wet pavement for a second trying to let the pain cipher out of her body through an aggressive hum.
She stood promptly, her white nightgown rode just above her richly pigmented knees, phantom scars decorating them, a singular statement of what her childhood was and how climbing trees was her specialty at the age of 6.
Her hands traveled down her body in an attempt to shake off any dirt but how would one even shake off the muddled water that seeped into her nightgown? She smiled sheepishly at no one in particular.
The streets were rid of any souls, the lamp posts lined the corner of every block menacingly, the trees occasionally rustled as the tears of the inky black clouds rushed to the floor with much more urgency. Fuyumi inhaled a smell that was so intoxicating it made her want to eat the pavement.
