Disclaimer: I don't own A:TLA.
Thanks to Olive Tree Hugger and WildCitrusSunflower for your reviews!
This chapter is slightly inspired by Basket Case by Green Day.
Basket Case. That's what I am. Plain and simple. Its day 93 since I have last left the house and I have no intention of leaving anytime soon. Frenzied whispers signal the kindling curiosity which inevitably will kill the cat in its incessant manner as I trespass the cobbled hallways of the west wing from the smooth mahogany floorboards of the east. It makes me question who the interior designer was and why they thought it would be such a great idea to have such a wildly different array of design. But I digress, that is another story altogether.
I pace these corridors without any sign of emotion, without that of wonder for the history of both this cavernous lodge which houses only three or that of my admittedly impressive (although also pitiful) family tree and the generations of Agnis whom have traced these very same hallways. The painted canvases which adorn floor to ceiling are merely that, they hold no deeper meaning for me.
Some say I lack the ability to feel raw human emotion. Meanwhile I say that I have the ability but I choose to bypass the battlefield of emotion as wrath and disgust thunder on while sadness and happiness wrestle.
Perhaps someday soon I'll be able to say that I can re-join those who rejoice and weep. But for now I keep my emotions in a memory box under lock and key.
When this time comes to an end I believe that my time as a basket case will also end. My battle wounds will have healed and I will able to come to terms with the loss. The loss of my fiancée.
The bay window becomes bathed in golden light and if it weren't for the fact that I'm a shell of my former self, I would have hissed at the sudden exposure after being encased in darkness for so long.
Katara. Little by little I'm able to overcome my hardships and open the Pandora box of my secrets and emotions. Perhaps one day soon I'll be able to let go of my self-hatred and of my belief that it should have been me.
But for now I turn from the bay window where you once sat, reading a novel while wrapped in a woollen blanket your Gran-Gran made for you and which seemed to grow in response to your dreams and ambitions.
I hope that when I turn back one day I'll see not the pain and suffering but the happiness which captured your philosophy in life. That a beautiful smile will adorn your equally beautiful face and I will weep when the window to my heart reopens.
Wow. Needless to say, it has been a long, long time since I last updated. And I suppose that I just lost faith in my writing ability. My boyfriend encouraged me to take up writing again and I have to say that I'm very happy!