[ There’s a smile and he’s picking up the metal bat, rolling it from hand to hand. His old wooden bat was splintering, practically falling apart at the seams. He takes a practice swing or two, probably knocking over a lamp or something. But upon lifting the note again, reading the last few words, he places it back down. ] 

     ☁ Gale had come in at a rotten time. The poor thing had done nothing but Rosemary had been in such a wretched mood that she snapped. Before the other could ever mutter a hello she was screaming her head off. Some awful words were sent towards her directions but most of it had been incoherent rambling. As kind as she was, Dreams could only take so much of others treating her like a doormat.

     After she finished the other was left speechless. She couldn't blame her; Rosemary hadn't raised her voice in a century. Once the hatred in her heart washed away sadness replaced it. Now she was becoming aware of her surroundings again. Aristotle was crying and a few dishes had been smashed. Instantly the woman embraced herself. That wasn't supposed to happen. She was supposed to keep her calm no matter what. 

you’re rad kenzii