Hello Monday (open)

[Blake Kildal]

She bobbed and weaved through the crowds, going unnoticed and blending in perfectly well with people, hiding and staying out of the way, narrowly avoiding anyone who came near her. It was a testament to how small she was, how silent she was, that she could pass by and no one noticed her or paid one bit of attention to her. It probably didn’t help, she was dressed in oversized clothing, hiding the emaciated frame underneath, hiding the scars and the bruises. Today had been a decent day in terms of surviving, she had gotten to eat, playing some game that her mother had come up with.

They all blurred together, the games, the beatings, nothing ever changed in her life except how long she went between meals. School was the only place she consistently got something to eat, and even then it varied if she went to school. No one knew her name, no one paid attention. She was barely passing because of her attendance, which fluxed with the severity of her bruises and injuries. Some days she showed up, others she never bothered. Half the time she was marked absent anyways because she didn’t speak up and was sleeping on her desk in the back.

Unfortunately, today was one of those days that she got to go to school and be ignored. There she could sleep safely and get some food, but the only risk was getting pushed around by people. She hadn’t been entirely truthful, some people did notice if she showed up or not, and that was only because she was so easy to pick on. Once they found out she fit inside the lockers, it became routine to shove her into them and close the doors, waiting for some poor unsuspecting subject to open the door and find the tiny girl inside the space. It was pathetic, how she never fought back, never told, didn’t do anything. She had no voice.

Blake was one of those rare breeds that scraped by under the radar, despite the abuse and despite the obviousness of everything, she denied and lied when someone asked. It made her a perfect victim, someone to use and toss aside, coupled with the fact some days she would show up wearing the same clothes with fresh bruises. Speaking of bruises, she gingerly touched her lip to see if the bleeding had stopped from being shoved down the stairs. Luckily, it had and was split and red, but the black eye she was sporting wasn’t from school bullies, it was from home.

The long sleeves of her sweater hid the scars marching up and down her arms, most of those self-inflicted and closed, except for a few that she kept picking at and wouldn’t leave alone to heal. She had no other idea of how to handle her situation, except for if she felt she had done something wrong, to just pick and pick and pick at herself and cause more damage. It had been instilled into her that she was nothing but a mistake and was better off dead, but that too would inconvenience everyone so she remained living but not alive. A walking vegetable.

Today was no different, that she knew, and hurried to her next class, hoping to avoid being shoved in a locker today, although she didn’t really expect to not be put into a locker by the end of the day. She bobbed and weaved, dodging people and bumping a few, however most took no notice as she moved, unable to really cause much force with her movements, as small as she was. Well, maybe she could cut someone with the sharpness of her body, from the lack of food that ever was placed into her system. Malnourishment at its finest in America. Her thoughts cost her the focus she needed before she was cut off and rudely pushed into a set of lockers on the side of the crowded hallway.

A large face appeared suddenly, blocking her view of the rest of the school population as words were hissed and she could hear the locker being opened. No one ever bothered to intervene on her behalf and today was no different. There were no heroes, those were fairytales, people who didn’t exist. The hands grabbed her roughly, forcing a whimper from her lips as they worsened bruises already placed there by the hands of an uncaring mother. Laughter instead rang out from the jocks as they shoved her towards the opened locker, fully expecting to shove her inside and get away with it like always.

[Ewan O'Sullivan]

The Irish-American freshmen jock, the one who tried to join nearly every team or club the school had at one point or another, was standing at his locker, door wide open, his body turned a quarter of the way, shoulder resting on the meeting corner of door and frame. He was eating mixed nuts from a Tupperware container, his master container that usually held about 5kg of the mixed nuts. They stayed in his locker until empty, then he'd bring the container home, fill it up, and return it to the same spot the next day.

His other hand was busy holding a banana, his mouth switching between the two snacks until the potassium rich fruit was gone. He sealed the container, grabbed one of the many water bottles, evening displayed in a set of 5 by 5, with 7 missing so far. The young man was constantly replenishing the nourishment that his body constantly seemed to burn through. His metabolic rate seemed to be through the roof, no matter who you were, even a professional athlete.

He was just closing up his locker, closing it with his combo lock, when he heard the raised chuckles of a cumulative group. His curiosity, easily peaked as it was, was sent to spike as he looked for the center of the minor commotion. At first he didn't see why they were goofing around so much, but he kept looking, finally seeing the absolutely petite girl, a munchkin of munchkin's.... She's tiny, is what he truly thought at the end of the day.

He felt like a bit of a small guy as it was, he wasn't necessarily short for his age, but compared to most of the jocks he was considered a midget. That left a small chip on his shoulder, he usually tried to prove himself out on the field, court, track, or mat. Whatever it he could due he did. Now, seeing a small person, a girl no less, being bullied, that kind of switch his happy-go-lucky personality took a bit of a 180. Something that was happening a bit more often as he grew older.

He moved quickly, his own frame moving with speed and precision moving through the crowds, cutting along the lockers to use the most open and effective path. As she was pushed she'd unfortunately meet a quick and sudden stop. That wasn't Ewan's intention, he would've preferred to soften the push and catch her, but she more of less bounced off his chest, then collapsed into his arms.

"Can it Tony! This stuff isn't funny." He might've been the only one of the current surrounding jocks to think so, but he wasn't bright enough to know the odds.

He had to stand up between her and them, so he had to physically move her around him. Using his arms he'd bring her behind him, not in front of the open locker, but so her back was beside it, against a already closed, locked door. That allowed him to step forward, his chest puffing out, chin up as he tried to intimidate the group and make them back down.

[Blake Kildal]

The words essentially fell on deaf ears, at least in her perspective. She knew that what they were saying was the same things her mother said, but at school she could drown it out with the dull roar of the hallways, making everything blend into each other, like the sound of a train rushing by to fill up the negative space forcing the ears to hear but the brain did not have to comprehend. She was so used to this by now, the pushing and shoving, the beatings and bleedings, that she didn’t register the newest kid until she was pushed into him.

The sudden stop brought a soft sound from her as deep bruises collided with something not so soft and she was moved to the side. For all it was worth, she couldn’t tell anyone what any of the kids standing around her looked like. Even the kid that had just shown up, she had no idea. It was a nice, thought, that much she knew, and soon enough he would turn just like them. Must be a freshman, was her only thought on the situation. Freshmen always had a notion that things would magically change and be all better, like a movie, but in the end nothing ever changed, people were just sorted into social groups.

Blake made no further sounds as she was set to rest against the locker, instead just staring at the floor, silent and waiting. The usual insults and slurs made no impact on her, falling on supposedly deaf ears, unless you happened to be staring at the white-knuckled fingers clutching the strap of her messenger bag tightly. It hurt because she perceived it as truth and no one had once ever bothered to say a word otherwise and today was no different. Such a pessimistic outlook, that much she was absolutely certain of.

The aforementioned ‘Tony’ merely looked at Ewan, arching an eyebrow and scoffing. “Why’re you sticking up for the silent freak? She knows her place, so why bother to interfere, Ewan? Aren’t you in the least bit curious to see if the rumor is true that you can fit her inside the locker and close it?” he asked, trying to use peer pressure to manipulate the situation in his favor. Tony was a large one, standing above most of the jocks and having the body mass to prove it as well, the bulk and definition definitely making him someone worth noticing in the room, whereas the tiny girl was invisible compared to everyone else.

Everyone just wanted to fit in in high school and the jocks were no exception, Blake being picked on from day one of her high school career, it being handed down through the different groups until she was a junior finally. Most everyone assumed she was a freshman and young because she was so petite and quiet, coupled with the fact that she looked innocent, but the truth was she was older than the guys standing around her, whether or not she would admit it. Then again, she was never one to say that anyone beat her up or was mean, even if obviously confronted about it.

Tony just grinned and looked at Blake, crossing his arms before reaching over around Ewan and ruffling her hair. “We were just kidding around, weren’t we, darling?” he asked, a good ol’ boy voice coming across his features, looking satisfied when Blake just nodded, going along with the situation and never once uttering a single word throughout the whole conversation. “Now, Ewan, run along and mind your own business,” he finished.

[Ewan O'Sullivan]

Ewan couldn't help by glared up at Tony when he tried to push him towards the idea of picking on others. Anyone, from any team he'd ever played with, knew that he was a team player beyond a doubt. But he was far to big hearted growing up with a large number of siblings to ever be considered a bully.

"I'd rather try and fit you in a locker and see if the door close's. That seems like a challenge. I like challenge's." Little man, big words, no fear, no hesitation. His eyes seemed cold compared to their usually bright glow. He leaned in a bit, his head tilting back a bit further as he continued to try and intimidate the pack and their leader into retreat. It failed, seemingly ignored as Tony continued to went on making fun of the petite girl.

'Find some more important business.' He hadn't said it, merely thought it, his eyes were still more intently glaring up at Tony. Having him reach over his head in order to pat the girl he was trying to protect was irksome.

"It's hard to run with a broken nose, isn't it?" Lean back, quarter step forward, forehead connecting squarely between the cheeks of the larger, bulkier jock. Nose broken, blood soon to trail down. Have to move quickly, capitalize on the initial strike and distraction. To close to hit the face as body rear's backward. Not effective enough. Weak joint, shoulder, open. Area to strike.

He stepped out in the opposite direction of Tony's out stretched arm, his hips torquing in the same direction as his foot. Fist came up, first two knuckles impacting deep into the pit of the shoulder, pushing into the soft tissue of the upper ribcage. Very blunt impact, the knuckles perfectly rolling out, all four connecting into the muscular torso.

Wheezing turned into a combination of mucus and phlegm being coughed up, spat onto the oddly clean tiled floor of the school. Tony was forced to drop down to one knee. At this point Ewan was the taller of the two, and had clearly separated himself and the unknown girl from the rest of the group, their leader being used as a human barricade.

"Get him on out of here, or you guys will find varsity a long-forgotten dream."

[Blake Kildal]

Blake remained silent, pressed back against the lockers and froze in between that inexplicable moment of fight or flight. Though, with her, she could never fight anyone, so it was just a matter of running away. She jerked back, her head colliding with the cold metal of the locker at the initial strike before turning away and covering her face, almost curling in on herself, a tremble taking over her body at the scene before her. She worried about the next day and the next retaliation, so instead she kept to herself always and curled in, wanting to disappear and hide away from the scene.

More and more people began to stop, whispers about the fight and soon a crowd grew, cheering on the fight and the original purpose long since lost. Blake hated attention and tried to fade back among the people, instead being treated as just another face in the crowd from the later comers. Whispers would start soon, rumors about the fight, everything being blown out of proportion eventually, as was always the way it went in high school and California was no different.

Blonde hair hid her face well, masking earlier bruises as she looked anywhere but the boys in front of her, listening to the curses spat by Tony. He was pissed, that much was certain by the voracity of curses spilling from his lips as he tried to stop the bleeding, pain radiating through his entire body. His friends and lackeys were quick to surround him and help him up, glaring at the other kid, taking their wounded and retreating while still saving dignity. It probably didn’t help that there were teachers coming down the halls, with the flighty words of the students.

Blake stood there, curling tight fingers around her bag strap, staring down at her feet. She remained quiet, teeth worrying at the already split lip, causing blood to well up again as she winced and pressed a sleeve to her lip, disentangling one hand from the bag to hide herself behind everything and hope that her so-called rescuer didn’t turn and ask her to speak. She hated speaking, her voice was so soft and no one ever really bothered to ask her, and she was so shy it was painful for her to speak, most things coming out in one word answers or she turned lovely shades of red, embarrassed and shy, unable to form even basic social connections.

She looked up quickly as the crowd dispersed, the sounds dulling down as the crowd moved out and she pretended she was part of the locker, closing her eyes briefly as she waited for the sounds to dissipate and everyone to leave, hoping to escape mostly unscathed, even if it meant tomorrow she would get hurt worse.

[Ewan O'Sullivan]

Staring down the group as they slumped away through the crowded hallway he hid the pain he felt in his wrist. He hadn't struck quite right, the first punch he'd actually thrown at someone and he ended up with a possible sprained wrist. It didn't bother him though, he was use to getting injuries, he was sure he'd be fine in a few minutes. So he ignored the pain, keeping a constant glare at the leaving group before the crowd began to break up even more.

The shouts of an authoritative voice caused a small amount of worry in Ewan's head. Despite Tony already having run off, he didn't want to be caught in the center of this. He loved being the center of attention, but only when positive. Being someone involved in a fight would surprise his parents, which would limit his current life style severely. He loved having his freedom, he didn't want it to diminish in any sort of way.

Turning around he found it difficult to see the young lady he'd stepped in for. Honestly, through the mass of moving people and her current, unaltered height he was having a very difficult time seeing her. Perhaps she'd already left, which he figured would be for the best. The less attention she got here, the better. He assumed the same could be said for anyone. Just in case he moved across the hall, standing against the lockers opposite of where he'd last seen her.

As the crowd dispersed he finally caught sight of her, and while he bumped shoulders with a few people he moved as quickly past the the lingering few. He hadn't even apologized for knocking into them, something he'd usually be overly profound for doing. His one-track mind was set on the little lady, preferably getting her out of here. The quicker the better.

"C'mon little miss. We should leave." He spoke abruptly, didn't even seem necessary to ask for her to reply. He figured it was for the best of things. He didn't want to touch her, or force her, but he did gently touch her shoulder to lead her in the opposite direction of the way Tony and his lackeys left.

[Blake Kildal]

Startled as she was, moving with the crowds away from it, she nearly jumped away from the hand that touched her shoulder. As it was, it was a very noticeable flinch and a tensing of muscles that shook her frame before she nodded, not even looking at him and instead just counting the number of tiles beneath her feet as they walked, knowing instinctively where she was by what number she was on. It kept her focused and awake in school, when she normally would have been asleep or in a locker, and she was being rushed along by some kid, almost too fast for her to count the tiles.

Gripping her bag even tighter, she dared to look out of the corner of her eyes, hidden by the long hair at him and get an idea of what he looked like. Everyone towered over her, so his height wasn’t important, but she made note of his features, even the odd ones, such as scars or other marks most people wouldn’t pay attention to. Granted, she may not remember his name, but she would remember his face if she ever came across him again. It came in handy for avoiding bad situations while walking home at night.

She shifted slightly, almost tripping over her feet as they moved away from the teachers and she tried to navigate around someone else, managing to catch herself but stumbling in the meantime and praying hard that he didn’t notice the slight misstep she had. Blake was becoming more and more self-conscious, the more time he spent around her and the more attention he paid to her, a faint pink color staining her cheeks behind the soft golden color of her skin. She didn’t know how to interact with people in any form of a social setting, and right now she was at her wit’s end of dealing with him.

Provided he didn’t actually ask her a question, of course. In that event, all she would do was look panicked and try to run away, thusly avoiding actually talking. She just managed to nod at his statement, not even bothering to answer him or give any sort of verbal acknowledgement, other than to just let him lead, hoping that he didn’t run into any trouble. She knew there would be hell to pay later, once he was gone, but as far as she was concerned, right now she wasn’t in a locker and hopefully would make it to class on time and sleep. Or do something quiet. She liked those days, when they watched movies or had a guest lecture, but she doubted today was one of those days.

It was Monday after all, and everything tended to go wrong for her on Mondays.

[Ewan O'Sullivan]

He'd noticed her twitch, it was hard for him not to as her shoulder nearly leaped off his finger tips as her entire body nearly jerked in unison. He quickly dropped his hand, if she didn't want to be touched then he wouldn't touch her. It was that simple, she was comfortable, so he had to try and bring her back into her comfort zone. Simple mind, simple thoughts, simple equations, simple answers. It was a constant process, and it was usually all happy and blissful.

Today, not so much. He hadn't planned to break Tony's nose, or bruise his ribcage. It had just happened. It wasn't like he was thinking back to what he'd done, he acted on what he felt was right. So at that point it was like once his fist had pushed into the ribcage, and Tony crumbled to the floor, his mind was at ease. At that very moment, he'd still been on alert due to the numbers, but now, for him, it was like he'd taken a breath. Nothing new to remember, happens far to often a day.

"Lets go out here." He spoke while waving his hand toward one of the exit/entrance doors. He didn't want to touch her, but he would sort of guide her towards the door by raise his arm behind her back, almost touching her. Pushing the cross bar with one hand he'd swing the door wide open for them, letting her walk through first while following right behind. If she wanted to leave, it wasn't like he was going to chase her. He just figured some fresh air would do some good. It had always helped him in the past at least.

He'd just followed behind her, slightly off to her side. He wasn't trying to startle her, nor act to friendly. He wasn't quite good with what he wanted to do, which was a sort of intervention. He wasn't bright, but he was smart enough to figure out the law of revenge. Tony most likely wouldn't go after him, at least not alone or in public. Possibly on the football field during a scrim age, make it look like an accident.

So if he wasn't going to go after him, that meant he'd go after her. That was troubling. He didn't want his act of kindness to turn into a more brutal aftermath for her. He'd also been kind, and if you disregard his last action of physical violence, that left him in a current predicament that made him want to solve this problem. Even if it was above his own state of intelligence.

"Miss, I don't want you to get in trouble for me stepping in. I'm going to watch out for you." He made it a statement, not posing a question, or asking if he could. It may've been considered a form of stalking if she told him not to, but he figured that was better then being bullied.

[Blake Kildal]

Blake flinched away from him again, in effect letting him steer her completely through the school and outdoors. She blinked rapidly, startled by the bright sunshine that existed outside of the school and immediately covered her eyes, one small hand shielding the bright blue eyes. She turned her gaze down to the ground, counting the number of gum spots on the side walk and staining the entrance to the school, marking the territory of teenagers and their uncaring habits.

She just sort of nodded in response to his statement, never mentioning one word and knew that he wasn’t going to be around all the time and would forget soon enough. Blake didn’t presume to judge anyone based on intelligence, only the deeds and actions and instead just preferring to drift through the wind like a tumbleweed, so to speak. She was happy to just exist, maybe not really live, but survive in the world around her. His words did cause a thrum of panic deep inside her, enough that her fingers dropped from shading her eyes to dig into the wounds on her wrist.

She cut because she couldn’t think of any other way and it was less likely to be noticed among everything, if she just acted clumsy. The tips of her fingers, slender and long, would dig into the cuts, and end up turning a faint red as the blood started to seep through her sleeve and she subtly wiped her fingers on the sleeve, instead focusing on the slight pain she’d caused herself to clear her thoughts. The cuts only appeared after her mother had done something particularly bad, hence the fading black eye she was sporting. She had more injuries under her clothing, hidden and not thought upon by anything until they were hit and then she paid more attention.

However, now was not the time as she moved away from him a half step, so she could get a better look at him, a sense of his movement, still keeping her face turned down and looking away whenever he looked at her, giving off the aura of a shy little girl and an introvert rather than what she really was in life. Words never came easily to her, instead she subsisted on pictures and sounds most of the time, preferring to let people make decisions for and about her without any input. Shifting slightly on her feet, almost fidgeting, she studied him with an eerie calm through a veil of hair, waiting for him to say something else, maybe provide his name? So far in her head, he was blending in with the mural of people there that bypassed her and took no note. So she simply watched and waited, wondering if he would provide reasoning for his decision.

[Ewan O'Sullivan]

Seemingly for the first time in his life Ewan studied something outside of his hobbies and sports. He studied the little miss as she careful observed him from behind her veil of hair. He was expecting some sort of verbal reply, most cannon being the don't, I'll be fine. or a more pleasant you don't have too... But neither of those came, not that neither of those would stop him from following through with his previously planned activities. He may not have been the sharpest crayon in the box, or the most colorful tool in the shed... Wait a tick... But he was true to his word. He had ample amounts of free time that yes, he should've used for studying, but his C+ average was holding steady, and he was happy with that.

"My name, little Miss, is Ewan. I'll be looking after you from now on." Such a statement would usually be followed by an explosion in the background, or a sharp, edgy beat that signified a higher cue of drama. But this wasn't T.V. and Ewan didn't quite have a flair for the dramatic. Though, he was planning to go watch a plan at one point or another. . . if that peaked his interest you never know. A ginger doing Shakespeare, perhaps?

"I can promise they won't be bothering you during P.E. or any club activities." wait for it. . . Here it comes. . . "But," There it is! "I won't be able to do as much during class time. It's valuable that you attend class, or get somewhere out of their sight."

Well, Shiver me timbers, it seemed as though he'd put some thought into this. He'd occasionally stuck around on family nights when they watched a movie, and the most recent had to do with being a bodyguard. That was most likely where his current influence came from, but it was hard to tell if he'd really picked up on it so clearly.

"It'd also help me if you did the same routine too and from school, keeping the same times and routes. Or at least tell me before hand if something is gonna change." Did... Did this actually seem well planned? You. Have. Got. To. Be. Kidding. Me. Give the boy a gold star, he's learning.

[Blake Kildal]

Blake frowned at him, not happy with his words. She was always careful about no one finding out where she lived or getting involved in her life and right now, the way she lived was being jeopardized. She knew that with a little effort, she could easily disappear from him and he wouldn’t notice, hopefully, and he would forget. She had very little hope in her plan actually working because she didn’t want to put effort into it, but if he followed her hope, there would be a lot of problems for her and she wouldn’t be in school for the next week.

Ducking her head as she half listened to him, she decided that she would politely inform him that his offer, while chivalrous and polite, was wholly unnecessary and impractical. She dug in her messenger bag and pulled out a blank notebook and a sharpie and began scribbling down neat, block letters while he spoke. Like the rest of her, her hand writing was small, but it was perfectly neat, not a confusing letter among the bunch.

The note simply read:

Don’t bother. I don’t need it and it’s simply a waste of time. The gesture is appreciated but entirely unnecessary and it is more of a trivial nature and pursuit and will bring more harm than good in the long run. Thank you for thinking of it, however it is best if you forget this happened and go about your life.

She didn’t sign it, feeling her name wasn’t worth mentioning and instead that it was better if Ewan just pretended nothing happened and lived his life. He seemed popular and cheerful enough and knew that people associated with her would end up ultimately either be dragged down or ditch her and regain their former status at high school. She simply tore the page out of the book, the spiral edge jagged and handed it to him, the bright stark white of her bandages slipping out from under the sweater where they had been carefully hidden before.

The moment he took the note, if he would, she would pull her hand back, almost as if burned and immediately yank down her sleeve to hide her bandages, turning to face away from him and give him her profile, away from the bruised side of her face.

[Ewan O'Sullivan]

Ewan took the note, raising an eyebrow towards the words as he slowly took them in. He wasn't illiterate, but he didn't exactly read for fun. Taking in words wasn't as easy for him as taking in movements. This was something much harder to learn quickly then learning to evade the tackles of 15 men on the ruff of the rugby field. He finally lowered the note, looked over her tiny frame, raised the note once more, skimming it for the essentials the second time around, as though trying to quickly work his way over notes for a test, then finally folded the note in half with the top pressing into the bottom.

He took his time, reaffirming the fold over and over, squeezing the edge of his thumb nail over the paper into his the flesh of his index. Taking his time to formulate his words he finally came to the conclusion that she wasn't going to really permit him to interfere with her life. He hadn't been planning to be following her home, he didn't figure she'd need his help there. Just at school before she was able to slip away. So he figured she wasn't going to 'let' him follow her, so he was just going to do as he pleased, do it anyways.

"Well, that's quite relevant. I can relax a bit, I guess. Ha. Okay." He nodded along, looking away from her as he looked down toward the concrete slab around her feet.
"But... Ah! Tch. . ." And the drama switched around, his free hand, the one without the note, scratched the back of his neck, brushing through the short trimmed burnt copper hair on the back of his head.
"I, I'm not gonna do that. No. . . I think I'm gonna stick to my plan."

He turned and started to walk, doing a quarter of a circle around her before coming to a stop on her left. He glanced over his left shoulder, smiling casually at her, a soft chuckle making his shoulders raised then drop as he laughed with his body.

"I'll try not to inconvenience you Miss. I'll stick to the shadows as best as I can. But I promise you'll be safe."

[Blake Kildal]

Blake huffed once he couldn’t see her face and she grumbled under her breath as he kept circling her and talking. This would not end well, she knew as much. He would find out more than he wanted to know, attempt some sort of half-assed rescue attempt and to which she would be out of school for the next two weeks thanks to her mother. She routinely walked around with injuries that were obtained more at home than any of the bullying that occurred at school.

She turned with him and kept him in her line of vision. Ewan unsettled her, picking up too well on what was happening and the cogs in his brain that were turning. She could practically hear his thoughts as he disregarded her note and her plea. It was the only one she could ever muster up to hope someone wouldn’t pay attention and notice her. She bit down harshly on her lower lip, tasting blood and the metallic tang that let her know she was bleeding again. Frowning faintly, she brushed battered fingers through her hair and winced at the slight tug it produced.

A small gasp escaped her lips, followed immediately by a soft murmur that could have been her voice exclaiming a denial of what he just said. Her voice, when she chose to use it, was a voice that no one could every get angry with and had the faint traces of a Hawaiian accent. She never raised her voice, ever, unless she was pushed past her breaking point and so far that had never happened. She instead went for shaking her head rapidly, causing the long, blonde hair to fly out around her, shielding her and forming a small funnel and reflecting the light outside.

She finally did speak, her voice so soft it was almost a sigh, the melodic pitch to it ringing true with her soft disposition. “No,” she said, the word vastly simple yet encompassing everything in the world around her. She wouldn’t let him follow her. That always ended up too close to home and things never went well.