A soft grunt escaped her throat and Sorine groaned, turning in the wake of her delirium. Where was she? She immediately shot up, looking around. She was in a strange surrounding. Dark hallways, dreary clobbered floor, not a lavish carpet to be seen in sight, and even more horrid, she had been sleeping on the stairway like some uncouth person. Look now she is all covered in dust and—
She winced immediately, feeling the crusty blood-soaked ends of her shirt rubbing into her tender calves.
Ah yes. That happened too.
She shook her head, running a hand through her hair. She was whipped. By Eric. She sighed, rubbing her palm all over her face. What was she to do now? She couldn't even cry. She is immensely distraught but numb to everything. She knew that she hadn't yet registered all these in her knowledge. When it hits her, it is sure to pour.
Clank clank clank.
A bowl rolls over next to her feet and echoes ripple as it circles round and round until it settles.
Wha—
