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and in the midst of it all, someone was sitting in the rafters tossing, of all things, popcorn and fruitloops at various people in the crowd... Sitting silently on the cool marble floor, her back braced against the smooth , shining blackness of the obsidian blocks making up the wall, she reached deep within herself for the peaceful calm of a meditative state. Taking a deep breath, she sent her gaze toward the floor,and peered, not at the patterns in the stone, but through them... The deeper she looked, the more alive the patterns seemed, almost writhing within the confines of their stone prison. The almost living, shifting patterns aided her in opening a door on thoughts long locked away, without losing contro; of them. Slowly, the thoughts came, awakened from their slumber. Thoughts of the pain, and the abuse she'd suffered, and the emotions and pieces of herself she'd hidden away, to save them from the crushing reality of her life. She'd hidden away all that was sweet, gentle, or fragile. The ability to feel, the capacity for love, for friendship, her heart, and her soul, leaving an empty shell, only capable of bitterness... or so she'd thought...but, bit by bit, it had begun to escape, and now, she was at a loss for how to deal with the thoughts and feelings she had begun to have... It was as if she were feeling and thinking for the first time, she wasn't able to keep her thoughts in order, nor to reign emotions which often slipped from her control... She was entranced by the beauty of it, yet terrified of the consequences.
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