[Tears and Rain]

There will be in theory :] Just.. exams and such atm obviously so not much time/thoughts in my head.. but yehs.
Thankyou :)

I'm not sure I like this bit.
But lyk.
Yeh.

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March 14th 2007

17:30
Sitting in the bathroom, she stared at the tiles around her. One pink, one white, one pink, one white, one pink, one white, she recited the pattern over and over in her head. She hated the colour pink.
She pulled back the sleeve on her shirt, one pink, one white, one pink, one white, one pink, one white, she continued reciting the pattern in her head. She really hated the colour pink.
The pattern of the tiles, the pattern of the scars, the pattern of her shoes that fateful day. She loathed the colour pink.
Reaching up to the cabinet behind her, she moved aside the aftershave and the unopened tubes of toothpaste and clasped her hands around her prize. The untouched blades would soon change the colours from pink to red, from rose to ruby, from peach to scarlet. She opened the new packet of razors onto her lap and removed two from the pile, replacing the unused treasures back into the packet and the cabinet above her head. She sat for a few minutes staring at the two killers before her, just waiting to be broken into, broken apart. And as she looked at them, she watched her fingers pull apart the plastic to reveal the source within…She heard a crash from downstairs, and a shriek of pain. Stashing the blades into her pocket, and the plastic into the bin, she sprinted down the stairs to view the source of the racket.
“Rosie! There you are! Why didn’t you answer the door? I’ve been ringing for ages! And then the phone wasn’t connecting! I forgot my key love, I hope I didn’t startle you too much.”
Rosie was met with the image of her step-mum flailing about on the ground after clearly attempting to gracefully climb through the window.
“Yeh, sorry, I didn’t want any distractions whilst I was working…so I unplugged it.”
“Ah I see, no matter. We really must get your father to leave out some spare door keys y’know, leaving the “known to us all that the front window isn’t locked” plan, simply causes accidents like the one I’ve managed to get myself stuck in. Give ‘s a hand would you?”
As she helped her step mum up, Rosie left her mind elsewhere and set to the menial autopilot mode.
“How was your day?”
“Yes not so bad thank you, a confusing one as it goes, some man came into the bank…” Rosie let her mind wander as the woman in front of her set about her story of torment at her work, she wondered whether she herself had ever questioned calling this woman “mum” after her dad had met this new lady in his life. It was what she was told to call her at the age of nine, and what she had always called her since out of habit. All of her friends, no doubt, thought that this actress was her mother, and Rosie had never bothered to or wanted to put them right. Putting them right made the truth too real. She was always an actress to Rosie though, although she never addressed it, the woman that stood before her never was and never would be her mum…

March 14th 1997

17:58
The girl did not recognise the woman lying before her. As she stood on the chair at the bedside and leaned over the figure sleeping there, she could see none of her mother in them. This woman wasn’t her mother. Her mother was bright and beautiful, with brown curls and deep blue eyes, not this…thing, she saw before her. This figure’s hair was limp by the sides of her head, her eyes could not be seen while she slept and her face did not look beautiful. The grey tinge to her skin made her face lifeless and the unmoving pulse behind her eyes made her dead. The girl couldn’t remember her mum ever sleeping like this…