Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-24416658-20140323233223/@comment-24296957-20140327032351

Triste waited for Arro to join her. She was calm now, the polar opposite only a few moments ago. "Well...I assume you're implying about a tale.  Well...we'll start from the beginning.

"The reason I went to Signal was to break free of my family, to take off the masks we were forced to wear.  I was sick of hiding, so I made the difference.  I went to Signal, and I left my mask at home.

"One day, though...another student attacked me.  He gave me this," Triste followed the scar that traced her right jawbone all the way down to her right collarbone, "and these." She lifted up her shirt to reveal a score of scars - criss-crossed slashes all over her torso. She looked down on the ground, quiet. Her expression was sadness, remembering the pain she went through.

"I shouldn't be alive right now," her voice almost a whisper, "I should be six feet under.  But here I am..." Her voice trailed off, Triste's mind becoming a swell of dark memories. She shuddered, held her head, and kept looking at the ground.

The trauma still haunted her.