They told her to ‘get over it’.
Get over what?
Told her ‘death is part of this path of life’.
She didn’t even know if he was dead or if he had made the choice to exile like a pathetic coward.
‘Time will heal all wounds.’
It was bullshit. This was no wound that would heal with time. The loss of him was simply a part of who she was now. She couldn’t accept that he was gone after the impact he’d left. No. But she could accept that things were different. Though she didn’t quite understand why, but she had been changed and was no longer the same girl she was only a year ago.
Gone was the confident blonde girl, replaced by a gloomy shell that matched the atmosphere around her that could only respond with a sheepish “I don’t know” when spoken to. Once at the top of her class, she’d now fallen behind in almost every class. The girl who once cried over missing her exams now couldn’t be bothered to care. She would simply exist as the being she was molded into after a decade of training.
As of late, she had stopped showing up to anything all together and it was only thanks to a threat from a proctor that Ysobel had even left her bed and forced herself out to the courtyard where she now sat under the overcast skies, a blank diary entry open in her lap and a pen in her hand.
Larkin
