Contemplation and realization || Open

[antonio d. rosati]

BANNER (C) TILLIE HEARS A WHO ?! @ CAUTION 2.0

For the most part, since his arrival, Tony hadn't spoken. He merely marveled in the time the orderly allowed him outside of his room. He was a bit of a predictable fellow and could usually be found in the lobby, gazing out a window. He hadn't eaten much since his arrival either, which was odd, considering his usual appetite. In the short time he had been at the clinic, he had lost about ten pounds. A combination of stress and no appetite could be to blame for that fine mess. Once a week, he gave a letter to whichever orderly they had assigned to him.

The addressee was his daughter, Arianna. His mother would read those letters to her and explain, to the best of her ability, that Tony was sick and needed help before he could see her. Because of that tidbit, Tony was usually between bouts of extreme depression and wanting to fly off the handle. He hadn't flipped out as of yet, but the urge was there, clawing at his brain. On more than one occasion, he had come dangerously close to giving into that urge. Even though he told a good story, the internal battle he was facing on a day-to-day basis was a little more than evident behind those pale eyes of his. If eyes were truly windows to the soul, he sincerely hoped nobody would take the time to look him in the eyes because if they did, he doubted they'd like what they found.

In about a year or two, his daughter would be in kindergarten. Where had the time gone or better yet, where had he been? He had missed out on the majority of his daughter's life but was a little more than determined to be there for the rest. This entire thing at the clinic was for her, after all. If it weren't for Arianna, he'd still be stuck in the rut he had been in since his early teenage years. The first time he had been here, he had missed out on so many things. For instance, his daughter's birth, her first steps, her first words, and the ability to comfort her when she cried at night.

He'd be damned if he turned out like his own father. Although he was a tad late, he still had a chance to change or at least, that was what he told himself. There were always fates that were worse than becoming a mirror image of his father. For instance, he could be arrested or killed. The very thought chilled him to his very core, and he wanted nothing more than to just hurry this up and go. "Odio questo tugurio..." He mumbled in his native tongue, slowly shaking his head.

(( Translation: I hate this hovel... ))

[ANDEE R. LESTRANGE]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 330px; background-image: url(http://oi54.tinypic.com/19tkbk.jpg);][style=float: right; border: 5px solid #000000; margin: 5 2 0 0px;][/style][style= margin: 10 0 0 3px; width: 250px; height: 90px; border: 2px dashed #000000; background-color: 800000; color: FFFFFF; size: 6px; line-height: 95%; font-family: Georgia;]Come inside and be afraid Of this impressive mess I've madeIf you take a look now you will find;I have thrown away my vice Done away with paradise See what's going on inside my mind Please let me out [/style] [style= margin: 10 10 0 10; width: 310px; height: 380px; text-align: justify; background-color: 800000; color: FFFFFF; border-bottom: 2px dashed #000000; border-top: 2px dashed #000000; padding: 8 8 8 8; overflow: auto;] Andee hadn't been in the clinic long, but she already hated it. It was too...clinic-y. Too clean. It needed chaos, disorganization. SOMETHING!!! She knew she wasn't going to like it here, not at all. She was looking at the ground, her arms crossed and her hood up, so she didn't see the tall guy in front of her. She bumped into him and quickly muttered an "excuse me" before hurrying off to where ever it was this orderly was taking her. Hopefully to her room so that she can sit and do nothing like she planned to do the entire rest of the time she would be here. She was bored and just wanted to be alone to check on her newest cuts. Why couldn't these people see that?! She didn't even want to be here damnit! She was so caught up in her own thoughts that she tripped. On her own feet. In front of everyone. She sat herself back on the floor and covered her face, trying hard not to cry or run away and find someplace quite to cut. 'Now everyone will see me as "That weird chick who tripped on nothing her first day at the clinic!" Can this get any worse!?' She hoped to Nyx that she didn't just jinx herself. [/style][style=margin: 10 10 10 10; width: 310px: height: 50px; overflow: auto; background-color: 800000; border-top: 2px dashed #000000; border-bottom: 2px dashed #000000; color: #FFFFFF; padding: 8 8 8 8px;]Words: Tags: Muse: Nothing at the moment. Inspiration:How I would feel in this situation Other:You seemed lonely, and I wanted to start posting on this lovely site, sooo... Here we are! Hope you don't mind![/style][style=margin: 0 10 10 10; width: 330px; background-color: 800000; color: #FFFFFF; padding: 6 6 6 6px; border-top: 2px dashed #000000; border-bottom: 2px dashed #000000;]Lyrics from Perfect Insanity by Disturbed Post template designed by Amami 天海 of OTE[/style]