School bell chimes. First day of a new curriculum. Out with the old and in with the fractured. Previous management had failed in some crucial precautions and found themselves...devastated in the process. But then, who among that crew, that idiotic crusade had fared any different? Certainly not herself. All involved - something lost, removed. Something gained.
Second chances for split abdomens. A hurtful helping of humility for those who pursued prestige at any cost. Trust, blind loyalty and faith expunged, exchanged for...true eyesight. Brutal and unrelenting. Blood loss for bones in the brain. They were all remade, after.
Save him, who was taken out of commission, out of play before the battle had begun. Not without some bruising but...better than what had awaited them in the end.
She stands with the support of a cane, the pavement she landed on a firm ghostly press along each vertebrae. Visions of the past, only. But still an irritant, all the same. She sees past the pain, the pane of the window, to the grounds beyond; barely green. All still frozen, awaiting a thaw.
She shifts as the doornob squeaks in opening, turning to her guest. Voice calm and neutral. Inflection even, absent the warm well of sound that used to sing from her lips. “Goodmorning Gideon. Please. Have a seat.”
Time and tide wait for no man. The same with turnover for asylum personnel. She hoped to make this as painless, stainless as possible.
