#lodgeds

❝  veronica                i think it’s time for you to return that hbic shirt to its rightful owner, don’t you?  ❝  said item was an article of clothing given away when loose ends had been needing to be tied up. she doesn’t desire to think about what happened atop the ice of sweetwater river anymore than she has to; in any manner that is not casual or innocent. deep in the darkness of the evening when sleep will not arrive, the bone chilling coldness that threatened to submerge her and the suffocation of drowning haunts her. the only remaining child of the blossom clan likes to think that the self ignited fire at thornhill had produced a new version of herself, a phoenix risen from the ashes. but the memories and thoughts that led her to seek out the water of death in the first place cannot be made to disappear in a bout of flames.

the general atmosphere of hospitals were almost suffocating, the chill of death hovering in the air and sending a shiver down the spines of those anxiously residing within the waiting room. in contrast to her fellow peers hoping for news regarding the recovery of fred andrews, the blossom girl rests in a state of contentedness. dressed like an angel in the purest white, lips painted crimson red and curved into an innocent and saccharine smile               even when telling the tragic tale of how her mansion had burned down; leaving her beloved mother with the most searing scars. 

                               ❝       hey ,        v’ronica     –––––––––       ?         hey ,      i .       ❞                pity    the    staggering    stag    of    a    boy ,     CAUGHT IN HEADLIGHTS      at    moment    of    barycentric    senses’    departure .            glaring    rays    refract    desperate     grasping    for    words    back    into    focus’s    bittersweet    antithesis ,            rendering    quintessential    clarifier    to    another    blinded    vagrant    among    many .           ❝       i    went    into    the    bathroom ,         & .             &        there’s    some    guy    ‘n    a    letterman    pissing    in    the    sink .           missing  the  sink .         i    thought    ‘d .        y’know .         tell    you .        before    you    had     to    find    out    like    i    did .       ❞              distant    stare    mingles    with    sudor    of    strain .            (       this    is    all    rather    new    to    him .      )              ❝       motherf    ––––––––       i    think    ‘m    gonna    be    sick .       ❞