sweet scars. (part one)
tw, mention of war, struggle of eating, torture, anxiety and depression.

After the war everything had want to shit.
the castle is still being repaired
broken, destroyed walls have bright yellow tape around them to warn us not to cross them
so nothing hurts us.
but that's the thing, nothing will,
we are all already damaged from the war
the broken bodies
the crying mothers
the self destructing fathers
the pain it caused could cause even death to shed a tear

I sit here infront of the fire, feeling the heat emitting from it. wishing the ashes were me, my face draws closer to the fire but a voice shouts my name.
"Delilah! come here."

fuck my life.
I look to my friend mal who has a worried expression, her face scattered with freckles and small spots. I admire her, I always have, she never hid her feelings, she is always so open and inviting
I envy her.

"Yes?" less than a whisper leaves my lips.
"I told you to stop going near fire, especially after the-"
"I know." I say cutting her off. "why don't you go to the grand Hall for dinner with everyone else? I'll catch up with you." I say to her, I feel bad for being so short with her but I can't help it. my temper and patience has worsened since the war. I scratch at my arm, the burn mark still bothering me, more the memories of how I got it, that bitch carissa, our opponent on the war. taken hostage for a week, I was tourtured relentlessly, falsely accused. they soon let me go. when my butler found out he immediately told the higher ups, they spat fiery rage till they declared war.

I was the cause of the war.
I could not feel any more worse about it.

I find my feet walking out of my room to the grand Hall slowly. then the doors open, eyes stare at me, ogling, like vultures. I still hate the feeling of people looking at me, I hate it why can't it be a simple feeling of disgust or uncomfortableness that washed away with a flick, I don't want it staying as a pit deep in my stomach.

as usual I take my seat next to mal, she braids her hair not caring what people think as she takes bites of her food before focusing back on her hair.
I poke at the food on my plate, my appetite non existent.
"just try eat something today del, you know you have to" mal says softly as she puts a sandwich in replacement of the large amount of food on my plate, encouraging me to eat. I can't bring myself to it. I feel sick. I want to leave. everyone is looking at me. I can't breath. I want to cry.

my eyes scan the hall, and I accidentally catch mateos eye. fuck.
I ected him to give a snarky smile, or a disgusted grin.
but no...
he looks awful, tired eyes, also picking at his food.
am I wrong to feel joyed?
he made my life a living hell
commenting on anything he could pick at every day
making rumours about me sleeping with the castle guards
he is a cunt.

what makes me curious is that he is writing. the famous, "I'm too cool to bother with smart shit" matter, writing. am I in a different dimension?
it looks to be a journal, a black, leather journal, he scribbles away ferociously, seemingly every word channeling his emotions through the pen.

this is gold.
he is a coward.
hiding behind pen and paper
ignoring his problems while I face mine.

he catches me staring
and i find myself bolting out of the hall.

© ewrites