Mustard? Possibly abt losing her parents?
It's just a little spark of something unknown. Though not feeling a thing for them, a little rebel sits alone. Not a single light on, except the phone screen held in hand. An old song, one that she thought she had forgotten, had found itself in her music mix. Whether by curiosity or by the faintest bit of nostalgia, the Mustard child takes a listen.
She remembers the strums of the electric guitar to a T, the lyrics memorized yet sang entirely off-key, the meaning behind the song that had been misconstrued when she was younger. The song sparked a memory of a long lost person. Breathing in a gentle sigh, Mustard restarts the song, listening to it again and again.
From there, many songs of the past pour forth, bringing their memories with them. Whether those memories are of a black-out drunk Christmas, an uncomfortably silent car ride, or a stop at the ice cream parlor, they pile up in her mind. Heat collects in the young one's face, small tears form at the corners of her eyes, yet her mind is numb. The clarity in her tears couldn't contrast more with how dulled her senses were, let alone how little she understood why her body reacted. There were no ill thoughts in her mind, in fact there were none at all, yet the streams continued to flow for what felt to be hours.
...It had only been ten minutes.
Switching to her chats, her friends were silent, most asleep with a few straglers speaking of subjects she didn't care for. There's a momentary contemplation of asking the 'therapist' of the group Sandwich about what's going on, yet... No message was sent. Mustard felt as if they had become some sort of transparent ghost, even observing her hand to the side of her phone to see how dimly lit it was. Was she numb enough to be dead? No, she was still warm, yet nothing felt there.
Flicking back to the music, Mustard blinked slowly, her eyes feeling as if they were sinking in. She could feel the dryness begin to make its way through her, and without a drink to help, she may as well be falling asleep with a dry throat. If- If she could sleep that is. Those memories that kept compiling no matter how many times she attempted to defrag herself... She could only wonder why these tears kept occuring at each reminder of what once was.
Nothing there to miss was good. Each memory only reminded Mustard of how great of a chance it was to be out of there, but no matter how much time had passed, reminders would spark up the rain of numbness she had gotten familiar with.
Mere minute pass, and recovery came quick. Aside from the crusted feeling left behind by the previous tears, Mustard felt fine again, scrolling through media as always. It was only a momentary quandary, leaving as soon as if came. The kid could only hope that it wouldn't be spurred again sooner than later. The last thing she wished was for her body and mind to react contrary to one another twice in one night.
